


Shaw Up

by HufflepuffLovesPizza



Category: Man Up (2015), Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: AmySarahRomCom, F/F, Fake Dating, Fluff, Gay adaptation of Man Up, Once again Amy has been cast in the male role, another gay remake that nobody asked for, romcom, shootweek19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-13 12:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18940597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffLovesPizza/pseuds/HufflepuffLovesPizza
Summary: This is a nearly word for word gay adaptation of Tess Morris’s brilliant script ‘Man Up’; so if you find yourself liking a line - it's hers.  Check out her movie, it’s awesome.Logline: A single woman accidentally steals a stranger's blind date.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [w3llthatdidntwork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/w3llthatdidntwork/gifts).



> Thank you so very much to w3llthatdidntwork !! Can't thank you enough for the betaing and support! Happy Shoot Week! 
> 
> Sadly, I did the thing that I always loathe; I have ‘Americanized’ the dialogue and locations; only because it fit a little better with the POI characters. It was kind of weird hearing Reese say ‘bloody hell’, so apologies.

Sameen Shaw, took a tiny bottle of scotch from the hotel minibar and plonked herself down in front of the mirror on the vanity chair. She wore her party dress, hair done, full make-up. The petite dark-haired woman stared at herself in the mirror and picked up the pinky pointy party hat bedazzled with ‘We’re Hitched!’ on it and almost put it on her head; instead, she threw it in the trashcan.

“Fuck it.” Shaw took a sip of the little bottle of scotch from the hotel minibar.

Moments later, Shaw walked over and slumped on the double bed, wearing sweatpants, a hoodie, and a pair of dog-shaped slippers. Her dress hung up in the corner of the room as she munched from a large bag of chips. Now the bottle of scotch was larger.

On the hotel television screen, ‘Silence of The Lambs’ played, and Shaw watched transfixed.

Suddenly, a loud knock at the door, startled Shaw, she jumped and went to the door.

On the other side of the door was a Room Service Guy with a trolley of food that Shaw had ordered.

Before the Room Service Guy could speak, Shaw cut him off.

“Right, yes good…right in here,” Shaw moved out the way so her steak and fries could make the grand entrance they deserved. She moved to sit on the bed and wait for the Room Service Guy to set up the meal. 

Room Service Guy revealed Shaw’s food as a magician revealing an impressive trick - a massive plate of steak and fries as he lifted up the small silver dome to show off the meal. He then smiled, politely as Shaw stuffed her mouth with fries, as she clocked Room Service Guy’s name tag.

“Tell me, Andrew... can I call you Andy?” She asked in between shoveling fries into her mouth. “How’s that party going on downstairs?”

“Uh, pretty well, I think.” Andy looked nervous, being in Shaw’s room alone with her. Shaw was an intimidating woman while also being mouth dropping gorgeous. “You know there’s food down there, right?” Andy said nervously to Shaw.

“Yeah, I do, I do. I’m just not in the party mood tonight.” Shaw stabbed her steak with the sharp knife then took a massive bite. Her phone started to ring. So she answered it with a mouthful of steak. “Have you got any ketchup, Andy? Hello.”

Joss, Shaw’s closest friend, on the other end of the phone, started off questioning her friend as she usually does. “Who’s Andy?”

“Seems like a nice dude who has just brought me dinner,” Shaw answered while also signing the bill that Andy handed to her.

“You’re not at the party.” There was no point in Joss asking this question; she knew Shaw well enough to know that her friend was getting room service in her room and ditching the party.

She also knew steak and fries had been delivered because it was Shaw’s favorite.

“I am not at the party, but I am at a party. Hannibal and Clarice are here, not to mention Andy too…and most importantly, steak is here.” Shaw made a motion with her hands around the room for only her benefit.

Andy got a nervous look on his face and eyed the door. His job was done; he really wanted to flee this so-called party.

Shaw caught the motion and told Joss. “But he’s just leaving now.”

“Put him on, please.” Joss didn’t ask, she demanded.

Shaw shrugged, she knew better than to argue or fight with Joss sometimes. “Hey, my friend wants to speak to you.” Shaw motioned to Andy before he could make it all the way to the door to escape.

Andy took the phone from Shaw, very confused and a little nervous. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m Joss. Now, there’ll be a dress, hanging up somewhere, can you give it to that petite, probably grumpy looking beautiful woman who is stuffing fries in her mouth, please?” Joss did ask Andy in a nice, sweet tone; she didn’t want to scare off the young man completely.

Andy spotted the dress hanging in the open closet cabinet, “Ah, yes, of course.”

Shaw watched Andy go over to her dress; she squinted her eyes. “No, no, no... Andy.”

Andy still had the phone pressed up against his ear as Joss continued to instruct the nervous young man. “Tell her to put the dress back on Andy, please.”

“She wants you to put the dress back on,” Andy handed the dress to Shaw, who glared at him. “She said, please.” He started to look a little pale, possibly the thought that this stunning, angry woman would change clothes in front of him. He would faint like a woman in an eighteenth-century novel if that happened.

Outraged, Shaw got up and took the phone from Andy. “Okay, enough.” Shaw sighed loudly. “Andy, do you have a napkin or something?” Shaw had gotten ketchup all over her hands from the fries. Andy quickly handed her a napkin, Shaw wiped off her hands and repositioned the phone. “Joss, I’ve been ambushed. Some set up, with a guy that Harper works with.”

Joss yelled into her phone loud enough for Andy to hear through Shaw’s phone. “Excellent. This is good!”

Shaw leaned on Andy’s shoulder for her, lament, “Come on. It’s just all so organized and awkward, you know I can’t bear it Joss…”

“Yeah, I know, Shaw but...how the hell else are you going to meet someone?”

“Well, I met Andy?” Shaw gave a wink to the very nervous Andy the Room Service Guy.

Andy, scared for his life, has decided to inch further and further to the exit as smoothly as possible.

“Oh no, he’s off. He didn’t like that. Put on the Do Not Disturb sign please, Andy!” Shaw called after Andy as she door slammed.

“Don’t do it, Andy! Take her with you!” Joss shouted to no avail as Andy had already ditched Shaw’s room.

Shaw moved the phone from her ear, “You’re yelling.” She flopped down on the bed and pressed the phone back to her ear.

“You’ve gone all the way down there, just put your dress on, go and show your face, stay, like ten minutes,” said Joss in her most encouraging voice.

Shaw interrupted Joss, “The party is themed, Joss. THEMED.”

“So don’t do the theme, Shaw. Okay, get your notepad.”

“Who gets married in January? Who gets married at all?” Shaw asked in a harsh tone.

“Hey, some of us like being smug marrieds,” Joss shot back.

Shaw rolled her eyes, then rolled her body over and picked up her notepad.

“I’m too old for this shit. And it doesn’t work on me.”

“You’re 38 not 88! And well, we’ve established you are unique.” Joss paused; her friend was unique, not broken. “The best of the best, yet unique,” Joss said in a very loving tone.

Shaw flipped open to a page that used to say ‘MANTRAS’, but Shaw has crossed the ‘MAN’ out, so it now says ‘SHAWTRAS’. It was a long list of inspirational sayings, some scratched out, and some underlined for dramatic effect. She sat up straight, determined. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes again at this stupid exercise.

“Put yourself out there.” Some of these Shawtras were truly painful to say. Why did she need mantras anyway? She liked being single. It’s other people that didn’t like her being single. She was fine with it.

“Good,” Joss said in a voice that truly resembled a proud mother.

“Take chances...” Ugh, that one hurt.

“Okay, now a little less hollow and robotic,” Joss said gently.

“Joss, you know those are my only two tones,” Shaw grumbled back.

“That’s not true. I always prefer snarky and angry. And that voice that implies you’re close to stabbing someone with any cutlery that is within arm’s reach.”

“You know what? Fine, you win. I’ll go to the stupid party for ten minutes. Happy?”

Shaw didn’t give Joss a chance to answer; she hung up the phone and threw it on the other side of the bed.

A few minutes later, the elevator opened with a PING! - ‘doors opening’ and there was Shaw, big game face on, out of her hoodie and in her pretty red dress, the stupid pointy hat gripped in her hand tightly. The flimsy pointy hat had seen better days. The red dress had not; no one could wear this red dress better than Shaw. She looked absolutely stunning, despite the grumpy, slightly murderous face. She entered the elevator and headed downstairs.

As the elevator closed behind her, she said more Shawtras to get pumped up – ‘Get stronger thighs’, ‘Even more defined abs’ ‘Be more deviant. If possible.’, ‘Talk more’, ‘Decrease eye-rolling’ – wait, she thought, Joss added those last two. How did she let Joss talk her into this ‘positive’ thinking bullshit?

The elevator doors opened at the lobby level, and Shaw adjusted her red dress and walked confidently over to the party doors.

Shaw said one more Shawtra before entering the party, “Engage with…” She kicked open the door, game face on to find the Hawaiian themed engagement party in full swing, couples everywhere. “…life.” She felt angry all of sudden, burning in her stomach. “Ugh. Gross.”

Leon, the groom to be dressed up with a hula skirt around his waist, immediately caught Shaw’s arm and put a lei around her neck, “Finally! We nearly sent out a search party!”

“Call them off, I’m here, Leon,” Shaw said in her most sarcastic tone with a side-eye to Leon.

Leon draped his arm around Shaw, grabbed a Mojito with a little umbrella in the glass from a passing waiter, and handed it to Shaw.

“Here, have a Mojito, the first one is free! I paid for them all with my savings! And now, I have no savings!” There was a look of sadness on Leon’s face.

Shaw reached into her handbag and pulled out a small scotch bottle from the hotel minibar.

“Happy Engagement. And uh, Happy New Year. Here is literally a small present,” Shaw shoved the tiny bottle of scotch into Leon’s hands.

“I am so touched that you thought of me when you raided the mini bar,” Leon said without missing a beat.

Shaw pulled out a pack of peanuts from her handbag as well and handed them to Leon.

“Oh my god, this is too much,” Leon had a smirk on his face now.

Harper swooped in dressed in a bikini top and hula skirt; she put her arms around both Leon and Shaw. “What’s too much? Tell me, tell me. Shaw, you look amazing.” She looked to her husband to be Leon. “He’s going to love her! Come on,” Harper grabbed Shaw’s hand and pulled her away.

“Whoa, whoa, I just need a moment longer with this Mojito, please…” Shaw tried to drink it while Harper tugged at her arm, thus spilling half of her Mojito along the way.

“He hates Facebook, loves dogs, and he’s really quiet. He’s perfect for you,” Harper slurred her words as she leaned too far into Shaw. Too many Mojitos for Harper.

“Who’s perfect for anybody, really?” Shaw didn’t believe in perfect matches, or really matches period. Except for Joss and John, they were good together. And Fusco and Frankie were fun together. That’s it, she couldn’t think of any other couples that were like meant to be together. Soul mate stuff was utter bullshit Shaw thought.

“We were a setup, and look at us now!” Harper said very happily, nearly falling down with her wide, broad drunken movements.

Shaw just stared at the two of them bemused. She stared at Leon.

“Leon, it’s like your single years have been totally wiped from your pea brain memory. Hey, you remember that girl who cried the whole way through giving you a blow job?” Shaw couldn’t help herself; if she was going to set up, Leon was definitely going to pay for it. She made gagging faces to emphasize the embarrassing story.

Shaw was not getting the ‘No motion’ from Leon as she continued to laugh and make exaggerated gagging expressions. A very awkward beat as Shaw realized that it was Harper who cried the whole way through the blowjob.

“And look at you now. Hawaiian themed engagement party. Congrats, you two,” Shaw said as she drank from her half spilled Mojito.

Harper glared at Leon, who gave her an apologetic smile. He soldiered on with Shaw.

“Come on Shaw, give him a chance? When I have led your wrong?” Leon said with his best selling grin, which most of the time didn’t sell anything.

“You don’t want me to answer that question, Leon,” Shaw had a slight murderous glare at her friend.

A party guest not wearing a pointy hat knocked into Shaw and spilled her drink onto her hands. As Shaw dried her hands off, she couldn’t stop the anger from boiling up.

“Alright! Bring it on. Another sad, single loser in their mid-thirties,” Shaw decreed while she stuck the mangled pointy hat in her hands on her head.

“I’m a sad single loser in my late thirties,” a dark-haired man corrected her as he came to stand in front of her.

Shaw swiveled around to see Matthew, a generic, handsome guy, smiling away at her. Harper laughed a bit too loudly at Matthew’s ‘joke’ and then looked at Shaw – as if to say, come on, laugh! Harper pulled a repentant Leon away, and they squabbled as they drunkenly shuffled away; clearly, the newly engaged couple needed some coffee or a nap.

Shaw and Matthew stared at each other, and as they shook hands.

“Matthew Reed. 39.” Matthew said seriously with a slight smirk on his face.

“Sameen Shaw. 38.” Shaw stood there with her trademark blank stare, also known as the GREATEST bitch resting face by her friends.

Shaw realized her hand was a bit wet from the spilled Mojito. “Sorry, my hand is a bit wet. It’s not pee.”

“Right,” Matthew seemed taken aback a little.

“It’s Mojito,” Shaw stated the facts.

“Oh, I didn’t think it was pee,” Matthew said awkwardly.

“I mean, why would it be pee? That would imply very poor personal hygiene. I don’t use my hand. I use toilet paper, just like everybody else,” Shaw again just stated a fact.

“That’s... a relief?” Matthew added again awkwardly. He was a little too posh; it seemed to be talking this much about pee.

“And so is a pee.” Shaw liked her pee jokes.

An awkward, zero chemistry pause.

“How about another drink?” Matthew attempted in a cheery, forced voice.

“Why not?” Shaw said in an even faker forced voice. Why she thought, why was she was doing this when she could be watching ‘Silence Of The Lambs’ in her room with steak and fries. She took a long slurp of her drink; Matthew turned to the bar and started to get his wallet out.

“I’ll get these,” Shaw thought maybe if she paid for the drinks, she could make a quick exit if needed.

“No really, it’s fine,” Matthew replied.

“Let me,” Shaw pulled out her wallet.

“No, no, seriously…Oh okay, thank you,” Matthew said awkwardly. “Alright, you get them.”

“I’ll just get them, shall I?” Shaw noticed a photograph of a girl in Matthew’s wallet.

“Ah, busted. Still carrying a photo of your ex around in the old wallet,” Shaw smirked at Matthew.

“That’s my sister,” Matthew said with a sad look on his face.

“Oh, well, she’s very pretty. Bet she gets all zee boyz,” she forced a smile to be ‘polite’ as Joss would say in her head.

“She’s dead,” Matthew replied in a very solemn voice.

Matthew snapped his wallet shut. Awkward silence. Shaw drained her second Mojito dry. And then ordered eight more.

**##--##**

Shaw was on the busy platform the next morning, in the background, a poster for a self-help book _'6 Billion People and You’_. She was feeling rougher than usual. In one hand, Shaw carried a bag from the train station cafe, filled with her unique hangover cure and in the other hand, a massive coffee. Shaw’s train arrived and she was so happy to get on her way back into the city and leave mostly coupled up people of suburbia behind.

Shaw made her way down the aisle, now on the phone to Joss.

“No, Joss, I have pictures of Bear in my wallet, and he’s alive and kicking, and I want people to ask me about Bear,” Shaw rolled her eyes.

Off in the city, Joss and her husband John, coming out of their brownstone, carried grocery bags full of chips, dips, and nibbles galore.

“But it’s good that you went,” Joss said while also pointing to John to instruct on where to place the grocery bags in the trunk of the car.

Shaw plonked herself down opposite a random nicely dressed Girl On The Train. She was pretty and tidy. And she was reading a book, so hopefully, no polite or not so polite conversation will occur Shaw thought.

“Why, why is it good? It’s just so excruciating and predictable like it always is. You know what, I’m just going to let my vagina hermetically seal up,” Shaw might have said this part too loud as the Girl On The Train across from her looked up from her book and stared.

“Yeah, well, that will help smartass,” Joss snapped, as she shook her head; John just smiled at his exasperated wife.

“Never hurt Barbie. She’s got a beach buggy, horses, a salon, condo, sports car...all with a hermetically sealed up vagina,” Shaw was quite proud of this discovery, she smiled to herself.

Joss continued to direct John where to put everything in the trunk of the car. “So how much longer until you’re here?” She moved a bag John had put in the wrong place.

John leaned into the phone. “Come on, Shaw, hurry up over here. There’s work to be done; we need to split it up. Lots of…nibbles I’m told to…put in a lot of bowls.” John scrunched up his face; he couldn’t believe he just said the word nibbles.

Suddenly, the ‘I’m up to my ass in bowls bowls all types of bowls’ part of ‘Back Home Ballers’ song filled Shaw’s head, and she got distracted. She snorted. “Uhhh…about two hours?”

The train announcer’s voice boomed out into the train, “…just a reminder to all passengers that due to weekend engineering work, all trains are making all stops at every stop. No express trains.”

Shaw groaned inwardly and outwardly. “About 7 hours.”

Joss slammed the trunk shut, “What the fuck!”

“I’m joking,” Shaw grinned, she kind of loved when Joss got mad and cursed.

“Well, not funny. I cannot do this all on my own,” Joss said as John sat down to get into the driver’s seat, who looked a little offended at his wife’s dismissal of his assistance.

“I’m here to help, you’re not on your own,” John said sweetly, looking over to his stressed wife.

Joss smiled at John warmly, then got cold again into the phone directed at Shaw. “Whatever you do, don’t forget the chocolate mousse, Frankie is obsessed. And have you done your speech yet?”

“Yeah, I mean I’ve got a rough…” Before Shaw can finish her sentence, Joss talked again.

“Or have you just done a lot of doodles and crossing out?”

Shaw stared out the window. She often wondered if Joss was psychic. How did Joss know some of her shit? Or maybe she hacked every electronic device Shaw owned and spied on her all the time, like a secret system that saw everything.

Joss got into the car. “Come on, Shaw, you know Fusco loves you, he wanted you to do a speech. So it needs to be good and special, okay?”

“Mmmmm, fine. Not sure why the big guy needs it from me,” Shaw did love the curly-haired stocky guy.

“And Shaw?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t seal up your vagina just yet,” Joss said gently. “It will happen for you.”

“Yeah yeah, fuck off.”

Shaw smirked as she hung up the phone. Joss could be like a mother hen sometimes, wanting to make sure everybody is okay. What Joss didn’t get was that some people were okay alone; some people didn’t need a mate. She started shoving her hangover cure in her mouth, a large Philly cheesesteak sandwich. Extra cheese dripped down her hand.

She glanced back at the Girl On The Train, who was reading a copy of that self-help book ‘ _6 Billion People and You - A Guide To Meeting Your Mate In The Modern World.’_ Shaw looked at the book; she definitely couldn’t help rolling her eyes to herself. Train Girl caught her doing it. Shaw looked down at her notepad, flicked back to her mantras…her Shawtras. She considered them, dismissed them, remembered she needed to do laundry, got out a pen and wrote the shortened version ‘Black Pant Wash’ because it was imperative to get her favorite pants clean. Shaw snapped her notepad shut, looked up to find Train Girl leaning towards her, sympathetically for some strange reason.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing,” the Train Girl or possibly Book Nerd gestured to the book she was holding. “You should really think about reading this.”

Shaw considered the back of the book now - it read, _‘This book will change your life!’_. She felt like she had met this type of girl before. Like she had this girl’s number.

“Oh, right, right... did it, then?” Shaw asked as she tore off another bite from her greasy sandwich.

“Did it what?” asked the Train Girl with a confused look on her face.

“Change your life?” Shaw gestured to the tagline of the book as she kept chewing.

“Oh...maybe, yes,” the Train Girl said with a big smile.

“Or maybe not?” Shaw shot back verbally.

“Well, I like to give everything a go; otherwise, what’s the point? I mean, you’ve got to hope it’s going to work, haven’t you? Because what is life without hope? Death!” Train Girl said a little too earnest for Shaw’s taste.

“Death it is,” Shaw said in her trademark deadpan, then added a sly grin.

“You see! You do need to read it. I would lend it to you but... I need it for my date.” A hopeful glee spread over Train Girl’s face and her entire body.

“Why do you need a book for a date?” Shaw asked in between bites.

“So we can recognize each other.”

“Oh, is it a setup? Well, they always work,” Shaw said in her snarky tone. The snark level was high with this one.

“They often work. If the match-maker has done their homework,” the Train Girl said rather confidently as she flipped her long dark hair over her shoulder.

“Yes, yes, because all successful relationships are built on the fact that you’re both the ‘outdoorsy type’ or can agree on what to watch on television after a crap day at work,” Shaw rolled her eyes at the Train Girl.

Train Girl visibly irked, “I think you should read this,” she said in a rather loud voice.

“Don’t need to,” Shaw said louder.

“It was an international best-seller,” the Train Girl was in defense mode now.

“So was the Da Vinci Code,” Shaw barked back, she wasn’t a fan of the book for some reason; even more so the movie.

“Also an excellent book!” Train Girl defended another book.

“Not an excellent book,” Shaw corrected the Train Girl. Sigh, Shaw thought, she just wanted to eat her hangover sandwich in quiet.

“I think it’s exactly what you need…” Train Girl continued in her passionate plea to get Shaw to read the self-help book.

The argument and volume escalated very quickly between the two women.

“Why is everyone always telling me what I need!” Shaw snapped not only to Train Girl but also to everyone in her life.

“Perhaps if everyone is telling you the same thing, you should listen…” Train Girl spoke softer now to Shaw.

“And I think you need to shush, you need to shush your mouth,” Shaw said harshly. She wanted to say shut the fuck up but decided to be a tad more polite. Train Girl had a nice, sweet face.

“You want me to…shush?” Train Girl looked offended.

“I do, yeah, it would be great,” Shaw took a huge, messy bite of her hangover double meat sandwich, mustard dripping down her hand and her chin.

Train Girl spoke again despite the shush comment. “I’m only suggesting…” she tried to finish her thought but stopped because of Shaw’s scary look at her.

“We’re done here.”

Shaw put her finger to her lips - quiet time now please - and Train Girl, clearly not quite finished with Shaw, went back to her book. Shaw took another bite of her sandwich, she munched a bit aggressively, annoyed with how that all ended. She hoped Train Girl would get off soon so they wouldn’t spend hours across from each other. Shaw feared another intervention might happen, and if it did, she was going to take that book and shove up Train Girl’s ass.

**##--##**

Shaw had fallen asleep, her face all squashed up on one side of the train seat. She woke up to find everyone getting off the train at the last stop.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now arriving at our final destination, Grand Central Station...Please, exit the train,” the voice came over the train speaker system.

Shaw yawned luxuriously awake. She glanced down at her table to see her empty sandwich wrapper and a copy of _‘6 Billion People and You’_ sitting in front of her with a post-it note that said **‘READ IT.’**

Damn that irritating Train Girl, blabbing for ages about this damn stupid self-help book. Before Shaw had fallen, asleep Train Girl mentioned that’s how she was meeting her blind date. The book. She was to meet a blind date at this last stop under the big clock at the train station. There was a napkin with a smiley face drawn on sticking out the top of the book - Shaw, infuriated, flicked to the page it was book-marking. The chapter read, ‘YOUR NEGATIVE THOUGHTS ARE RUINING YOUR LIFE (AND EVERYONE ELSE’S...).’ Shaw slammed the book shut hard and glared around, looking for the irritating Train Girl.

Shaw looked up to see Train Girl, waving gaily at her, walking off down the terminal hallway exit. No way. Shaw was definitely not having that. She furiously picked up all her stuff, including the damn book, and charged after annoying Train Girl, who had now picked up her pace. Shaw managed to get off the train and started running after her.

Shaw tried to get through the ticket barriers, to catch up with Train Girl, but her ticket beeped in denial. Again and again. What the fuck was wrong with the machine?

Furious and frustrated, she handed it over to the ticket inspector, as he beeped her through, and she now continued running through the busy concourse of Grand Central Station, which looked more lovely than usual with all the holiday decorations. Shaw searched for Train Girl like she was the white rabbit, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, Train Girl walked confidently into a newsstand, where a huge display of _‘6 Billion People and You’_ books sat in the window and a long queue of people all waiting to pay.

Shaw, still determined not to lose this battle, scanned the crowds for her quarry. In frustration, she flipped the book over - reading the tagline on the back - _‘What are you waiting for?’_ Taking it personally, she looked up, suddenly furious.

“Damn it, where the fuck are you?!” Shaw yelled out to the crowd.

“Sweetie, I’m right here,” came from a voice behind Shaw, a voice as smooth and soothing as honey or a ray of sunshine on a chilly day. Or even on a non-chilly day. “I’m not that late.”

Shaw spun around to see a tall, attractive brunette woman standing before her with a huge stupid grin on her face; actually, the grin was charming as hell. And she was holding that damn stupid book in her hands.

“Somebody threw themselves on the tracks again. I don’t blame them, so many delays,” the tall, gorgeous woman tilted her head and continued to smile warmly at Shaw. “So nice to finally meet you Hanna, I’m Root.”

Shaw was totally confused - why is this woman, this rather hot woman, holding up a copy of _‘6 Billion People and You’_ talking to her? And calling her Hanna? And still grinning stupidly at her. The grin and twinkle in the woman’s eyes were both making her stomach feel weird, like hunger pains, maybe. She was pretty sure she just hungry again. She couldn’t stop starring into the woman’s eyes; it was like her eyes were taken, hostage.

“Great idea for how we’d know each other,” Root gripped her book of ‘6 Billion People and You’ as she attempted to wink at Shaw. “Although you would have been pretty hard to miss under this clock.” Root then motioned to the massive clock hanging from the ceiling above their heads.

Shaw looked around and wondered what the fuck is going on? She looked back at the book, then up at the massive clock above her head, and it all clicked into place. The stupid crazy story the Hanna woman, aka Train Girl told her about her blind date. She was meeting her blind date under the massive clock while holding a copy of the stupid book. Idiots.

“Oh no, I’m not, this isn’t…” Shaw stared directly into the tall, gorgeous woman’s big, brown, soulful eyes and felt momently frozen. What the fuck kind of name is Root? If anything, this tall, gorgeous woman looked more like an Amy.

“Should we shake hands or kiss?” Root continued to stare, with a brief glance down to Shaw’s lips, “Oh come on, we’re all adults here.” Root leaned in and kissed Shaw on the cheek, her warm lips pressed firmly against Shaw’s chilly check from the cold weather. A slight electric charge shot through both women. Root pulled away and blushed as she lifted her eyes again to Shaw’s eyes.

It was a quick kiss, but Shaw felt herself swooning. She then scowled at herself; she didn’t swoon. Swooning was not in her nature or DNA. This woman was really hot, though, and smelled nice, so it wasn’t swooning; it was lust pure and simple. Her phone started to ring. ‘JOSS CALLING’ appeared on the lock screen.

“Oh my god, is that your emergency exit phone call already? I’ve barely had a chance to use my good lines yet,” Root leaned in close to Shaw, “That wasn’t one of them.” She grinned at Shaw, who, in return, continued to look completely baffled by the tall, gorgeous woman.

Suddenly, Root swiped the phone from Shaw’s hand and answered the incoming call from Joss.

“Hello there, caller. So, I’m not a psychopath, we’ve really hit it off, and she’ll call you later with all the gory details. Playfully witty sign-off.” And with that, Root hung up the call and handed Shaw her phone back with a huge grin.

Root did appear very nervous as she shifted her weight from foot to foot and gripped her book a tad harder. She continued talking to fill the silence. “Right. Book. Check. Clock. Check. Blind date...check?” Root looked at Shaw expectedly and shyly.

Shaw gulped. She looked at the book, then the clock, and then the tall, stunning stranger called Root.

“So, after I’ve spoken, usually you speak, we exchange ideas for the evening ahead, swap notions of what to get up to,” then Root did a Hannibal Lecter impression as she continued rambling on, “’ Quid pro quo, Clarice’.” Root got a serious look on her face then smiled again at Shaw.

Shaw was visibly thrown by Root’s Hannibal Lecter impression - who was this woman? Who was this woman tweaking all her verbal nipples? ‘Silence Of The Lambs’ was her favorite movie of all time. It was a movie she usually quoted to people with blank stares back to her in return. She argued vehemently to friends over the years how ‘Silence Of The Lambs’ is probably the best movie ever made. And the kind of romance movie she liked.

Root watched Shaw closely, “With hindsight, possibly not the best impression to do on a first date.” Root hugged the book to her chest and bit her lower lip. “And kinda goes against what I told Joss about me not being a psychopath on your phone.” With the shorter woman still staring at her blankly, she continued, “Anyway, listen, I’m talking, I’m talking a lot, and I know you can sense it, so I’m just going to keep going with that, and start the bidding with a drink near Manhattan’s scenic Bryant Park? At a pop-up bar?” Root decided to hold up her copy of the book for added effect, “So, er...what are you waiting for?”

Shaw looked up at the clock and all the couples underneath it, meeting and greeting each other. Then looked into Root’s brown eyes that seemed to draw her in and, for some reason, made her feel warm like a sunbeam hitting her on a chilly day. Was she about to steal someone else’s blind date? Yes, yes she was. She was up for some adventure, even if this woman seemed a bit loony.

“I am waiting for...” Shaw looked down at the book, then back at Root with an adorable confused look on her face, “You?”

“Absolutely,” Root said with a twinkle in her eye and another failed attempt to wink at Shaw.

A bemused Shaw let Root lead her away from the clock, the crowds engulfing them as they walked on through the train station. The real Hanna, aka Train Girl, rushed up on the other side, not seeing Root and Shaw walk away from the clock. She carried a brand new copy of _‘6 Billion People and You’_ and stood under the massive clock as she scanned the crowds with an excited look on her face, trying to find her blind date among the hordes of people bustling through the train station.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shoot Week Day 2!

Joss stood in the middle of a wine store staring at her phone, confused, while John went about shopping for wine with their friend Fusco. John and Fusco each pushed a shopping cart filled with boxes of cheap wine.

“What do you think, good stuff for the first few hours, descending in quality as we go?” asked John to Fusco, seeing that Joss looked preoccupied on her phone.

“We are going quality and quantity, John. It’s a special night; Frankie wants the best,” smiled Fusco back to John. “She’s hoping I only retire once. And she’s thankful I retired before getting stabbed in the gut. Again.”

“Or shot in the head. You’re right, you two deserve it,” John replied back as he moved away from the $5.99 shelf, but did put two cases of cheaper beer on his cart.

Both men started stocking both carts with more expensive wine and other booze.

“You do deserve it. It’s an impressive track record, Lionel. Plus, a solid marriage to Frankie and somehow staying friends with Shaw is no small feat,” John said while making sure his cart didn’t topple over with so much booze in it.

“I think the trick is getting through the first five years of anything...then give up for lack of a better word. From that point on it’s a breeze,” Fusco said while giving a cheeky wink to John who returned it. “I’m kidding. Communication is key.”

Frankie, Fusco’s wife, approached, pushing a trolley overflowing with expensive wine. Frankie scanned both Fusco and John’s trollies thoroughly.

“How we getting on?” Frankie asked both men.

“We’ve got booze for everybody and many nice bottles of sparkling seltzer for me,” replied Fusco as he smiled to his wife.

“Well that’s great,” Frankie smiled back to her husband and then sternly directed the next comment to John. “Put one of the cases of beer back, John.”

John had a slightly pouty face as he put one of the cases of beer back on the shelves.

Joss wandered over, holding her mobile phone, looking a little perturbed.

“What did Shaw say, what does she want to drink?” asked Frankie she moved things around in her shopping cart.

“Well I’m not sure if she…” Joss stood frozen and partly speechless.

“She’ll want scotch. The only drink she can out-drink me on. But we’ll see about that later,” John said while looking up to scan the shelves for scotch.

“No, we won’t,” Frankie shot back quickly to John.

“Guys? She didn’t even answer her phone, some woman did. Sounds like she’s on a date,” it came out of Joss’s mouth as the shocking revelation it was.

Frankie, Fusco, and John, all three stood frozen and partly speechless now. They all looked at Joss with extremely confused faces.

“With the woman from that dating app, thought it didn’t work out?” asked Frankie to Joss.

“No, it didn’t work; it was a disaster,” Joss looked back at her phone as if it was going to give her some answers on her friend’s tragic love life.

“The woman seemed to be in love with her dead sister,” John blurted out then shrugged. Joss shot him a look that said ‘idiot.’

“That was the guy from last night,” Joss corrected her husband.

“Who answered her phone?” asked Fusco with concern in his voice.

“I don’t know. She said she wasn’t a psychopath.” Joss had a concerned look on her face.

“Well, that sounds quite encouraging. We’re having a party, she’s on a date, I’m thinking maybe she’ll bring her?” Fusco asked while looking around to Joss, John, and his wife, Frankie.

“Fusco,” said Frankie as if scolding her husband.

“Well, if she’s not a psychopath …it’s very encouraging,” Fusco continued despite a look from Frankie.

“Joss, did Shaw’s psychopath sound more of a red wine drinker or a scotch gal?” asked John with a shrug.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Joss started laughing.

Fusco and John took a DNA man cue to walk across the store to pick out some more wine, leaving the woman alone to talk.

“What’s going on, is Shaw, okay?” asked a concerned Frankie to Joss.

“Yeah. Yes. I’m sure she’s fine. You know Shaw can more than take care of herself and a small army. She’s just…” Joss trailed off, looking off in the distance.

“Fusco is looking forward to her speech,” Frankie said gently to Joss. “It’s funny, she’s not much for words, but when she does use them, they’re pretty good.”

“I know.” Joss smiled fondly, thinking of her friend’s gift for words. 

“She is coming?” asked Frankie a little less gentle this time.

“Course she’s coming!”

Frankie looked worried. Joss put her arm around her.

“Look, do you want me to write a few words? Just in case?”

“Not really no,” Frankie smiled at Joss, who in return gave her a ‘faux’ upset look.

“Oh that cut me deep, that cut me real deep,” Joss gives some hope and sass to Frankie. “I’ll call her again! Okay?”

“Thank you, hot mama.”

As Frankie moved away, Joss turned away, a little concerned, calling Shaw again. Joss knew Fusco really wanted Shaw to give a speech at his retirement party, surprisingly between all their friends; they had known each other the longest. And despite all their differences, they stayed friends and had some weird kinship as their friends called it. Shaw wasn’t good with words verbally; however, she was quite good with words on paper at times and even better with graphics. Fusco had thought maybe by giving the retirement speech; it might help Shaw break through her funk she had been in since a long-ago break up.

**##--##**

Shaw, wide-eyed and had no idea what the hell she was doing. She walked alongside Root aimlessly through the bustling streets; some decorations still lingered from Christmas. There were flickering lights hung up along the street lights making the whole street look almost magical. Then her stolen blind date noticed her expression.

“You okay?” Root asked and got a nod back from Shaw. “You just look a little bit, freaked out.”

Shaw shook her head - no, no, not freaked at all. Yet she was totally freaked out. Her phone suddenly rang.

“Shit! Bit of a first date no no I guess,” Shaw took her phone out of her bag, saw once again ‘JOSS CALLING’ on the screen. She canceled the call.

Then Root’s phone started ringing.

“Er, that’s not embarrassing,” Root said while smirking to Shaw. She reached into her coat pocket and looked at the screen. “Oh, hold up, it’s Zoe.”

Shaw thought to herself, who the fuck is Zoe? She panicked slightly, thinking her charade would be over soon.

“Hey Zoe. What? Eh? But I’m here? With Hanna,” Root smiled at Shaw, who returned her biggest, fakest smile she could muster.

As Shaw listened to Root’s phone call, she gathered as much information as she could. My name is Hanna. She mouthed it to herself, concentrating her efforts - ‘Hanna, Hanna, Hanna’ what the fuck kind of name is Hanna? There was no way she was going to pass off as a Hanna for longer than 90 seconds.

Root continued listening to the call a bit confused; then she did what was becoming her trademark non-wink to Shaw. “We’re near Bryant Park, actually in front of the library. Wanna speak to her?”

Shaw looked horrified at the prospect of talking to this Zoe person and pretending to be Hanna on the phone.

“Okay…” Root paused then tried not to smile, “…we will Zoe.”

Shaw watched Root blush while listening, guessing that this Zoe person was saying saucy, kinky stuff about the supposed Hanna. Uh, her now. Even though she just met Root, she already had some blushing thoughts of her own. The woman looked to have incredibly long legs that would feel good wrapped around just about every inch of her body.

“Yes Zoe, totally Zoe, I’m hanging up now, Zoe,” Root hung up on the call. “She thought we hadn’t found each other.” Root stared at her phone briefly with a bewildered look on her face.

“Ha! As if!” Shaw might have said a little too loudly as she lightly smacked Root on the arm. Clearly, the tall, beautiful brunette liked any contact from the shorter woman because her face lit up.

“Let’s turn these things off now, shall we?” Root suggested holding her phone up.

They both switched off their phones in unison.

“So. Hanna,” Root said, and Shaw didn’t seem to snap to any kind of attention.

Suddenly, Shaw realized the problem and looked up, “Yes…so...” as she gave a small smile at the nice smelling woman beside her.

“Zoe tells me you work downtown?”

“I do, I do, that’s what I do.” Shaw didn’t work downtown; well, actually, she worked all over the city as a cop. She could improvise though with the best of them. She was a detective along with Joss, John, and Fusco. After all, she was used to observing liars all the time; she picked up a few tricks.

“Is that quite stressful?”

“Nah. Lunch is for wimps,” Shaw snorted, then annoyed with herself, “Sorry.” Sheepishly she looked at Root.

Root then spoke with a serious goofy expression on her face, “‘If you need a friend, get a dog.’ Wall Street. Great movie.”

Shaw was visibly delighted at Root’s movie quoting abilities, damn it. She couldn’t hide it. She loved that movie too. She was impressed this woman wasn’t just all about dopey cheesy romantic comedies. Shaw shook her head to ask Root a question or, as Joss says, to engage people in conversation.

“And you are a...” Shaw asked, gaining some confidence back.

“... _An_ online marketing…” Root cleared her throat “ _Manager_.”

By the way, she said online marketing manager Root was not happy with her job; she was almost somewhat embarrassed by it.

“I like online marketing managing,” Shaw said quickly, trying to ease the beautiful woman’s discomfort. For some reason already, she didn’t like seeing this woman in distress, no matter how small it was.

“But what I really want to do is code, computer programming. You know, can’t be an online marketing manager forever. Plus, that way, when the artificial intelligence super-beings take over the world, they will see me as a friend. And they’ll manage all the online marketing, and it will free up my time to start up a vigilante group to save helpless people around the world.”

Shaw surprised herself by enjoying this kooky Root banter.

“Well, it seems you got it all mapped out,” Shaw awkwardly said while trying to come off more smooth and breezy. 

Root smiled shyly at Shaw and shifted from one foot to another; she put some of her hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I am rather nervous. Not used to this ‘dating chat’. And I’ll admit, I had a few reservations, but then I thought, I trust Zoe. She’s not going to set me up with someone I’ve got nothing in common with, she’s a good friend, right?” She scrunched up her face in the most adorable way.

Well, to Root’s credit, it was an adorable face, to begin with. Ugh, Shaw thought to herself, adorable? What was it about this disarming stranger that had using words like adorable?

They stopped walking as they finally reached a pop-up bar along the park.

Shaw took this a cue to say something about Zoe. “I’d take a bullet for her.” Shaw cringed a little, that might have come off a little too intense, however, once again Root’s face just lit up like a Christmas tree. In fact, just like the big one, they walked past in the park moments before.

“I’m so glad you said that, me too.” Root looked almost shy as she asked her next question, “So, where are you on the relationship spectrum?”

“Oh, you know, long term wise, it’s been a while…” Shaw didn’t like relationships, and she didn’t necessarily care; she wasn’t good at them. Okay, she admitted sometimes it stung only because the few times she tried relationships, her partners eluded that she wasn’t good enough or good at them as if they were a game to win. And that seemed unfair.

“Since Tomas?” Root just shot it out, concern on her face as she turned to Shaw.

Shaw thought to herself, who the hell is Tomas? “Yeah, since…uh Tomas.” Who the fuck is Tomas?

“Zoe told me. Massive cock,” Root said very casually like mentioning something she saw on the daily news.

Shaw dropped her wallet she had been getting out of her bag, completely flabbergasted at Root’s comment. “Uh…Really? That’s what Zoe said?”

“Huge,” Root glanced up and studied the menu on the pop-up bar. “So I was surprised you agreed to go out with me. I’m not huge…yet I do make up for it in stamina and a deviant imagination,” Root then gave Shaw a sly smile and another attempt at a wink.

Shaw felt her cheeks warm and her lower regions, she couldn’t believe this woman made her blush. And Root didn’t seem to blush herself at this saucy remark. And she would very much like to see this stamina and deviant imagination at work, specifically on herself.

“It wasn’t that massive,” Shaw winked back to Root, which did get her intended result a slight blush from the taller woman. Huzzah, Shaw thought.

Root got serious for a moment, “What he did to you…”

“Er uh…yeah….” Shaw was at a lost; she had no idea what this Tomas did to Hanna.

“Had the same thing done to me. Affairs eh? Who’d have ’em? Oh wait, they would,” Root said this with such disdain and bitterness in her voice it came out quite chilling to Shaw. The usually soft brown eyes took on a slight murderous edge to them while talking about cheating partners.

“And what about your...spectrum?” Shaw asked as she grabbed a packet of crisps from the bar, adding it to their bill.

“Recently? I’ve had some one night stands, girls from work, girls I’ve met in bars, or just like, on the street,” again Root said this very casually.

Shaw nearly choked on her drink from Root’s remark. She paid for the drinks and chips as they moved off away from the stand.

“I’m kidding,” Root had a look on her face that made it seem she became aware that her joke came across as wrong, “…this is my third or fourth proper date since, you know...”

Shaw looked at Root with a blank stare.

“The ‘D’ word.” Root had a severe glum look on her face.

Shaw panicked, looking at Root’s face and thinking of her last disastrous date at the engagement party last night, “Dead sister?”

“Huh?” Root asked, completely confused.

“It’s just something I say before I drink... dead sister,” Shaw raised her glass and took a big gulp, squinting her eyes a bit.

Root watched Shaw drink. She watched her throat move and up down. She broke herself out of her daze, “Dead sister.” Root raised her glass and took a hearty gulp. “Anyway, I’m not one to let a failed marriage put me off relationships for good.”

“Divorce!” Shaw wished she had yelled this in her head; instead, she did indeed blurt this out loud. She then shook her head and repeated it in disdain with a disgusted look on her face.

“Just be thankful you and Tomas didn’t get hitched. It gets way more complicated when you’re trying to work out who gets the apartment. Thankfully, I got it.” Root said in a sad tone.

Shaw spontaneously laughed; she didn’t know why she could feel sweat rolling down her back. Was she nervous? Shaw didn’t do nervous. She was glad for Root that she got her apartment after some asshole woman cheated on her. She hoped Hanna got revenge on this Tomas for cheating on her.

Shaw and Root walked along the park with their drinks, twinkling lights of the city everywhere, illuminating the streets and buildings.

“Since, I won the apartment. I’ve got big home improvement plans for this year. Going to do up the apartment, paint the hallway, bleach the sheets,” Root looked over to Shaw who had a skeptical look on her face. “Anyway, let’s not talk about all that stuff. All that bad ju-ju. Because I’m _so_ over it.” Spoken like someone so not over it.

“You really sound it,” Shaw was bummed to see Root’s first major flaw; however, it also made her want to hug the woman and possibly cuddle her. Cuddle? Where the fuck did that come from? She wasn’t a cuddler. An hour with Root and was talking crazy town.

“It’s in the past,” Root then stopped and stared at Shaw with a sadness in her eyes, “What does it say in ‘ _6 Billion People and You’?_ ” She waited, and either was a good bluffer or didn’t know the answer.

“Fuck the past?” Shaw was pretty sure that’s **NOT** what it said in ‘ _6 Billion People and You’_ ; but maybe it was a paraphrase of the mumble jumbo self-help crap.

Root’s face lit up once again, “The past is so last year…” she smiled warmly at Shaw, “…fuck the past indeed.” Root could feel her whole body going hot, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol she was drinking, it was decidedly because of Shaw.

Shaw watched Root while she opened a bag of chips. “If that book has taught me anything, it’s taught me that…”

“Zoe says you’re a triathlete?” Root looked over at the chips.

Shaw stopped briefly in between munching on the chips. Fucking hell, this Hanna is a triathlete? “Uh-uh.” It didn’t stop Shaw from stuffing some more chips into her mouth.

“Do you have to train a lot?” asked Root to Shaw as she continued to shovel chips in her mouth.

“I need to regularly carb up.” Shaw devoured the chips; she offered Root one who took one as though she shouldn’t.

“Oh go on then, I worked out today, I mean I work out most days. I like to, y’ know, pump some iron,” Root said this as if she never pumped iron or weights in general. Then she performed a vague weight lifting mime. They munched in silence for a few moments, the silence not uncomfortable.

Root looked out over the park at all the people. “Ah, isn’t this great? I mean, I don’t envy my friends with kids. Are they here with us now? Hell no. They’re at home, lying in wait for the next nappy change,” Root stopped herself, she didn’t know if she was shooting herself by that last thing, just to make sure, she corrected herself. “Not that I don’t want kids. I’m 40, I’m probably barely fertile now, yet just not right now. Should probably get a girlfriend first. Then she can have the baby. Joke.” Root attempted to wink again at Shaw.

“Oh, me too, uhhhh….kids. But I’m not like, freaking out about it yet.” Shaw hoped that sounded vague enough; she didn’t want to scare off Root yet. Although she wasn’t entirely convinced Root wanted to have kids at all, it seemed the woman was just feeling her out. The woman was really hot. Shaw couldn’t help think how hot Root would be in the baby-making process without thankfully resulting in babies.

“Me neither.”

An very cute baby in a stroller went past them, gurgling and smiling at them both as if on cue. They both smiled politely at the baby and mother. Then Shaw berated herself internally, she wasn’t the smiling type, and this Root woman was having a massively weird effect on her. Or maybe those chips were off.

“Well, you’ve got plenty of time, you’re only 26,” Root said as a matter of fact about Hanna, who again was probably still waiting at the train station.  
Shaw nearly choked on her chips. Hanna is 26?! She was a good ten years older than this Hanna, for fuck’s sake.

Root checked her watch. “Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s getting pretty cold.”

The taller woman already had an adorable pink nose Shaw noticed. It was a perfect nose, and now it was pink. A perfect pink nose. Shaw also peeked at Root’s watch, yikes. She thought to herself at some point she was going to have start heading towards Fusco’s retirement party.

“Unless you’ve got somewhere better to be…” Root cautiously asked as not to scare off Shaw.

Before Shaw could say anything, Root started to take off her scarf. “It’s fucking freezing out here.”

Root wrapped her scarf around Shaw’s neck. It’s a nice little moment, and Shaw couldn’t help enjoying Root’s touch. Her hands lingered for a moment; even though they were cold, they warmed any part they touched Shaw. The scarf smelled like Root and Shaw found herself breathing in the scent repeatedly; it was an intoxicating smell. It was a mix of some fruity shampoo like maybe that dorky clean forest smell, which never made sense to Shaw because how do you clean a forest.

“I know a nice little joint just a few blocks over.” Root pointed off down the street. “Does your carb regime allow for some mini tacos and a couple of tequila shots?”

That sounded pretty damn good to Shaw, no way she was heading to the retirement party just yet. “Yeah, it does.” Especially not if a few tequila shots lead to some making out in said little joint.

**##--##**

Root and Shaw walked over the Brooklyn Bridge towards their next destination, which was a Mexican cantina that had a mouth-watering taco menu.

They found a spot to sit side by side at the bar. They both grimaced a bit after taking their first shot of tequila. The female bartender came over to clear their glasses.

“Hey, Root. How’s it going?” The bartender asked before turning around and not waiting for an answer.

“Hi, Veronica…always lovely being ignored by you,” Root did a smirk at Veronica’s back.

Shaw clocked the recognition between the two. “You a regular here?”

“Well, define ‘regular’?” Root asked with a smirk.

A waitress walked past at that exact moment, “Hi, Root.” And she kept walking.

“Hey Helen, how’s it going? Hope the knee is better,” Root looked a tad bit concerned after the waitress. Then back to Shaw, “I don’t like to cook.”

Root then looked down at the bar and clocked Shaw’s Moleskine notepad sitting there. She quickly reached into her bag to produce an identical one.

“Look at that,” Root put her notepad next to Shaw’s. “We’re swapping, right?”

“Swapping?” Shaw looked at Root with furrowed brows confused then back down at their matching notepads. She had accidentally pulled hers out of her messenger bag, looking for her wallet.

As Root opened her notepad to a specific page, holding it out, Shaw blankly took it from her, with more confusion. Root picked up her notebook from the bar.

“To do the ‘ _6 billion ways to get to know me better_ ’ lists you suggested?” Root’s big eyes searched Shaw’s perplexed face.

Root opened up Shaw’s notebook to Shaw’s mantra list, the Shawtras. Shaw looked away so she could cringe to the wall instead of the hot woman sitting next to her.

“Is this your list?” Root asked with a smile on her face.

Shaw had no idea what’s going on.

“That is...mine.” Shaw’s voice did go up an octave higher like she was asking a question. Then she mentally kicked herself.

“Mine’s at the front,” Root motioned to her notepad; she leaned slightly over Shaw’s shoulder. Root’s long brown hair was spilling onto Shaw’s shoulder, and her scent filling the shorter woman’s nostrils delightfully. Shaw found herself leaning into Root; she wanted to press her nose into the chestnut hair and take a long drawn out whiff. She finally pulled herself away from the intoxicating brunette hair.

Shaw looked down at Root’s notepad, opening it up to list of all her favorite things from bands to food to hobbies to movies to books. Also, Lifetime Ambitions, deepest fears. What fresh hell is this? Shaw thought to herself.

Root looked confused, reading off Shaw’s list, “Be less grumpy?...Make occasional eye contact... be more deviant (if possible)….Black Pant Wash?” She said each one slowly and thoughtfully as she paused for effect.

“Don’t you know that, er, band?” Shaw struggled through this lie. “Black Pant Wash…they’re like…not big.”

“Are they new?” Root looking like she was definitely out of her depth.

Shaw, no idea what she’s talking about, “Oh yeah, really young, and fresh and up and coming. My _favorite_ band.” Shaw thought she might as well sell this lie hard. “Found them on Pandora…or wait Spotify, or was it Soundcloud?” She was randomly listing social music platforms as if she used them daily or even tried them once.

“Of course! They’re so great,” Root lied, I think I saw them on social media. “From the tumblr, right?”

Spoken truly like someone who didn’t really hang out on social media that much, especially if their dream was one day to hack the stock exchange.

Shaw smirked, now Root was lying, or she was out of millennial touch. “Really... funky.” At least she didn’t say Facebook. Deal breaker.

An awkward moment as they both looked at each other’s lists, no idea where to go next with this.

“Get stronger thighs?” Root read more off of Shaw’s ‘Shawtras’ list; she secretly squeezed her thighs together, thinking of the attractive brunette’s thighs next to her.

“I want to be able to crack walnuts,” Shaw looked over Root’s shoulder, her breath catching on the taller women’s neck. She wondered if she placed a kiss there if she would get kicked in the thighs for being so forward.

“Or necks?” asked Root with a mischievous grin.

Shaw took a visible gulp while maintaining intense eye contact with Root. She definitely wanted her wishful stronger thighs wrapped around Root’s elegant, delicious neck.

Shaw thought she would change it up before she had to change her underwear, “Whoa, spooky,” she pointed down to Root’s list. “I also love pancakes.”

Root looked down at her own list with a disappointed look. “Mine is so boring.” She pulled her book away from Shaw, then scribed something and showed Shaw. “Better?”

“Hack into the stock exchange for fun.” Shaw read aloud and made an impressive shoulder shrug to Root.

“It’s possible, just need a few more team members,” Root eerily said like she had been thinking of hacking the stock exchange.

Shaw looked seriously at Root. She wondered if this was a good time to tell the online marketing manager she was a detective, and joking about hacking the government with a police officer probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Well, the lists are done. That wasn’t too painful, sadly,” Root said with a non-wink to Shaw. The woman couldn’t blink properly to save her life.

Relieved, they both happily put their notepads down onto the bar. Veronica, the bartender, swung by and put the bill down. Shaw got out her wallet to pay, as did Root. They started arguing about who was going to pay. Shaw won this time. When she opened her wallet, a big photo of Bear was displayed, looking very handsome.

“Ooh, who’s that?” Root leaned over Shaw once again, invading her personal space.

Shaw wanted to grab the tall, lanky woman and pull her into her lap and kiss her senseless. She wasn’t used to having such a strong physical reaction to someone, let alone a tall, lanky online marketing manager type of woman. Shaw couldn’t help a small smile spread across her lips because Root did ask her about Bear. Root then looked slightly up and stared at Shaw’s lips. Okay, now she really wanted to kiss her.

“Bear. Most handsome guy in the world.” Shaw said proudly; she tore her eyes away from Root’s lips to look over Bear’s photo.

“Bear looks tough like he could save the world. Or at least a dim-witted man trapped in a fire,” Root said while adoringly looking at the photo of Bear.

Shaw couldn’t help smiling like an idiot at Root who returned the idiotic smile. Then some guilt kicked in. Shaw thought maybe it’s time to come clean to Root and not only because she wanted to put her tongue in the woman’s mouth; she wanted it to be her tongue and not Hanna’s tongue. She paused and took a deep breath.

“Look, Root, I’ve got a confession to make…” Shaw stared into Root’s captivating brown eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” Root replied shyly.

“You have?” Shaw looked confused. She thought if this gorgeous woman does confess to being an illegal hacker, she wondered if she had the will power to jail her. She would at least invite her back to her place first for a send-off to jail night with mind-blowing sex.

Root put her hand on Shaw’s arm. “Yeah. Let me go first. I’ve never heard of Black Pant Wash...” she hung her head and blushed. “I feel old and outdated in music and social media apps.”

Shaw found Root’s honesty appealing and was momentarily distracted from her own giant deception.

“...and I think it’s important, to be honest about that…because honesty is so important, right?” Root had a sad look in her eyes, saying this last part, clearly, the broken-hearted of a cheating spouse coming back to haunt future dates and possible relationships.

Shaw thought about honestly and the past and old lovers, much like Scrooge’s ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future, yet with more lesbians and bisexuals. Shaw nodded and shook her head simultaneously. She usually was so brave, yet there was something about this woman that both excited and terrified Shaw. In a way, she hadn’t experienced before with anyone. She didn’t want to see Root walk away from her and leave forever, which was a crazy thought considering they just met. So she decided to keep lying for the rest of the night because this Root woman would reveal her true horrible self in time, and then Shaw could walk away from this adorable woman without a stomachache.

“If they are your favorite band, I’m interested in listening to some of their music. I guess those lists are a good ice breaker…” Root stared into Shaw’s eyes; then her eyes trailed down to Shaw’s lips.

“The best,” Shaw said, not convincing. Ugh, Shaw hoped Root would stop staring at her lips soon or she was going to lean over and kiss her senseless. She shook her head. Time to play some devil’s advocate. “But you don’t believe that just because we both like pancakes, we’re going to end up together forever…”

“Agree. Depends on the pancakes,” Root smiled warmly at Shaw. “But right now, whatever happens, tonight, wherever we end up, I’m having a really good time, getting to know you, and you’re very patient with me, so thank you for that,” Root looked around the bar, the place started getting crowded. “And I don’t know why I brought you here; it was a stupid idea. So how about we go someplace else, somewhere _different_.”

Shaw, totally torn because that little speech didn’t annoy her, and usually stuff like that made her uncomfortable in fleeing back to Bear kind of way.

“Bowling! Zoe said you liked bowling!” Root said excitedly.

“I don’t hate bowling,” Shaw said with a smile in the corner of her mouth. She could be into bowling if Root wanted to bowl.

Root picked up the two remaining shots, handing one to Shaw, “Whaddya say? Couple for the road then hit the lanes?”

“Fuck it,” Shaw stood for a moment thinking, then grabbed the shot and drained it.

“Okay?” Root asked with a high wattage-beaming smile aimed at Shaw.  
They grinned at each other. Shots taken. Game. On.

As soon as they got to the bowling alley, Root and Shaw tried to outdo each other with sexy bowling moves, if those exist. They pretended as if they were in a hot and steamy bowling montage from a romcom movie. There was a lot of slow walking with hips swayed fiercely, asses pushed and pumped into the air getting each other’s undivided attention. Shaw was transfixed by Root’s ass; she wanted nothing more than to have her hands on that piece of the brunette’s anatomy than the grungy bowling balls.

Shaw scored an awesome strike, okay, she thought; it wasn’t that sucky being at a bowling alley well mainly because Root was here. And this is no ordinary bowling alley. This was a cheesy, tacky, retro heaven, with a 1960s’ style diner; staff dressed in American bowling style outfits.

Root couldn’t keep her eyes off Shaw; she longed for the woman to take off her halfway buttoned-up plaid shirt to see her just in the tank top underneath. She was practically drooling watching Shaw, which made Shaw even more enamored with Root. The two women watched each other so intensely while licking their lips; it was becoming increasingly obvious to everyone within a ten-foot radius; they were definitely in heat with each other.

Shaw seductively picked up another bowling ball, turning it around in her hands, as she watched Root’s fingers stroke the beer bottle in her hands. She sidled up to their lane, taking an extra bit of time to move her ass around a bit, pretending to line herself up to take a shot. Root appreciated the view by leaning forward and wiggling in her seat and squeezing her thighs together. After another successful strike, Shaw stretched her legs out on the semi-luxurious seats, watching Root’s hands weighing up two bowling balls, which could well be her breasts in her mind. Yup, Root was bringing attention to her breasts, Shaw squeezed her legs tighter together what she wouldn’t give to get her hands on Root’s bowling balls.

When Root knew she had Shaw’s attention back up a little higher from her breasts, she poked her fingers one by one into a bowling ball slowly, then pulled them out and eased them back in again while she stared hard at Shaw. Root’s fingers went in and out and then in and out again with a steady rhythm as her tongue licked her lips. Shaw let her beer bottle linger a little bit too long over her lips as she watched Root’s fingers. She wanted those fingers inside somewhere else, lucky bastard bowling ball. Root took another shot, and then dropped down to the floor, lying on her side in a nonchalant position - yup, she got another strike.

Shaw did a variation of the fingers things to get Root back on her turn. She slowly pumped her ass in the air as she took a shot and released her bowling ball; she slid onto her knees, and then on to all fours, hoping for a strike to pay off this pose. Thankfully, the pins crashed and the lucky strike rung out over the bowling lane. Still on all fours, Shaw turned her head to wink at Root. It’s sexual cliché heaven, but they are digging it. Unbeknownst to them, a group of young kids had witnessed the whole thing and were giggling amongst themselves.

As the hot and steamy bowling montage came to an end, Root and Shaw, were now pretty drunk, and clearly digging each other. They were finding it hard to keep their hands to themselves. Shaw sat on her hands to keep them from roaming, itching to grab hold of Root.

“Who says blind dates don’t work?” Root asked by not asking, a bit breathless as she stared hungrily at Shaw.

“I’m going to go get us a drink,” Shaw stood up and headed for the bar. If she didn’t get up, she was going to lunge at the taller brunette and kiss her senseless.

Shaw glanced round to clock Root, watching her go. Root looked away quickly. Too late! Shaw leaned on the bar, pretty pleased with herself. One of the bartenders, a tall, dark, fierce-looking woman, noticed Shaw. The intense-looking woman did a double take at Shaw and then shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Shaw?” the bartender had a very fierce look on her face staring hard at Shaw with almost crazy eyes.

“Yes?” Shaw responded to the bartender, confused. She did notice the woman was looking at her really intensely with a mixture of surprise and awe. Shit! She was Hanna tonight, why did she answer to Shaw? Stupid ingrained 38 years in name training.

“Sameen Shaw?” The fierce, slightly crazy looking bartender woman was almost yelling now.

Shaw started at the bowling bartender, trying to recognize her and made a ‘ssshhhhh’ motion for her to keep her voice down. She was Hanna tonight, not Shaw.

“Do we know each other?” asked Shaw then as politely as she could, the woman had some serious eyes going on at her and not entirely friendly it seemed.

“Control? Biology class,” the bartender said this like everybody, especially Shaw, would know this small tidbit of information. “Andrews Comprehensive, ‘88-’93, I sat next to you in Chemistry for five years?”

Shaw continued to star at the bartender clueless. 

“We were in a class called Control Biology? Was that a sex education class? To control our bodies?” Shaw’s stream of conscious thoughts were going off the rails with the combined buzz of alcohol and Root.

“No, my name is Control,” she beamed at Shaw and then repeated it louder. “It’s me! Control! Wow! Sameen Fucking Shaw before my eyes.” Control loudly roared as Shaw gritted her teeth.

Shaw thought to herself; the past might indeed fuck her hard now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Day 3 Shoot Week!

Shaw scrunched up her face and furrowed her brows staring at the bartender. Then she added a ‘thinking hard’ look with wide-open eyes. She did want to remember this woman because she thought this woman looked dangerous despite wearing a bowling shirt that read, ‘Rock ‘n Roll ‘n Bowl’ with a cartoon pig.

“I gave you a Valentine’s Card in year nine. You tore it up in front of everyone? And your mom ran me over that one time in her car.” Control started at Shaw intensely.

Shaw remembered now. Oh, gawd. This woman. Now? She really wanted to fuck the past now, well not like the sexy variation but the variation where the past didn’t matter and would go away. Far away and not be in Control of alcoholic beverages. Even if that person’s nickname was Control she thought.

“Uh, yeah. I’m so sorry about that,” Shaw made a winced facial expression. She remembered her mom not even feeling that bad over the incident because Control was such a pain in the ass, and it was an accident on the annoying kid’s fault.

“Don’t worry, I glued it back together. It was only in about 57 pieces.” Control continued to stare intensely at Shaw. Borderline creepy intensely.

“No, I meant...the car accident?” Shaw looked at Control; the woman did look different than she did when they were younger. “My mom felt bad about that…you look great.”

“I know,” Control had an unlimited supply of confidence, she puffed out her chest and showed off her arms.

“And now you’re so…” Shaw didn’t know what to say, giving compliments wasn’t a strong skill of hers, plus she didn’t want to add encouragement to this interaction.

“Uh-huh, I went on the 5:2 diet. 5 days on Chocolate Nesquik, 2 days on Strawberry Nesquik,” Control now gave Shaw an intense smile. “I didn’t lose any charm though if you know what I mean.” She then leaned in close to Shaw’s face, “The booty.”

Shaw didn’t know what Control meant, and she didn’t want to find out, she struggled not to roll her eyes.

“Can I just get two beers, please?” Shaw hoped she could get the two beers without any more small talk with Control.

“Hell yes,” Control went about getting the beers. “Sameen fucking Shaw. WOW!”

Shaw looked over to see if Root was looking over at them. She wasn’t. Control put two beers down in front of her.

“They’re on me. It is _so_ good to see you.” Control winked at Shaw. “And take these nachos on the house because you’re an old friend…” Control pushed over a small plastic basket of cheesy chips, “…SHAW.” She said the real name very loudly as Shaw cringed.

Of course, this woman can wink but not Root.

“Thanks?” Shaw cleared her throat; she scolded herself for being momentarily afraid of this woman from the fucking past. Shaw took the beers, left the nachos, and walked back over to Root, still on the sofa. She handed her a beer and got a beaming smile from Root in return.

“Flirting with the bartender?” Root raised her eyebrows as she stared at Shaw.

“What? No!” Shaw said so quickly and loudly; her response sounded like a screech.

“It’s okay. I’m like the least jealous person ever.”

Although, while saying this statement, Shaw watched Root closely, the woman was putting off a crazy jealous vibe as she kept glancing at Control at the bar. Shaw hated to admit, but the jealous vibe that Root was giving off was fucking hot. Not healthy, but fucking sexy hot. If she were younger and less discreet, she would drag Root off to the bathroom to show her just how fucking hot her silly jealous vibe was getting to her pants.

“Me too.” Shaw took a swig of beer. “I’m completely not a jealous person.” 

Two could play this game. If some random dude were to hit on Root right now, Shaw decided she would head butt him. Root was her fake date, and nobody else could have her tonight. Not healthy, but she hadn’t been on a date with someone like Root before. And she didn’t want it to end yet.  
They both drank from their beers while they eyed each other. They both were jealous people—one more than the other.

“So, let’s ramp this up a bit,” Shaw stood up. “Not that I’m competitive.”  
Shaw was clearly competitive.

Root grinned and stood up, started to choose a bowling ball as Shaw turned to glance back at the bar again, but - WHOA - Control was right there. In her face and near Root.

“Shaw!” Control yelled with a wide grin on her face.

“Sssshh!” Shaw motioned for Control to control her voice then pointed to Root, still picking out a bowling ball.

“But I brought you some nachos. On the house,” Control leered at Shaw.

Shaw pushed them away, a few feet away from Root out of earshot, “I’ve got a wheat allergy.”

“No, you don’t.” Control pulled a photograph out of her wallet. “Hey, remember this?”

Shaw leaned in, and then her eyes went wide. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“It was in my wallet,” Control pointed to her wallet as if Shaw was dense.

Shaw shook her head, her anger rising with the growl from her voice. “Who took it?”

“I did,” Control said in a way too cocky voice and attitude.

“That’s in my bedroom at mom’s. I don’t remember you ever being in my bedroom?” Shaw seethed and tried to lower her voice, so Root wouldn’t hear.

“I wasn’t in your bedroom, silly. I was outside - in a tree.”

Shaw pulled her arm back to punch Control as hard as she can, but then she heard Root shout.

“Hanna? Watch and weep.” Root swung her ball and hips in an overly dramatic gesture while Shaw turned and watched with a smile.

Control looked over to Root then back to Shaw. “Why is she calling you Hanna, you’re not called Hanna, you’re called Shaw, Sameen Shaw.”

Root went up for her other ball to bowl; Shaw quickly put her arm around Control in an attempt to lead her further away from her fake date.

“Look...” Shaw squeezed her hand on Control’s shoulder. “Control…buddy, nothing really rhymes with Control…” she carried on, “…I’m in a bit of a situation here …uh, friend.”

Control nestled her head on Shaw’s shoulder and smelled her hair. “You still use Pantene Pro-V.”

Shaw looked at Control and tried not to lean away from the creepy information that her old classmate remembered and wondered how she knew what shampoo used, she shook her head and reminded herself to check out and see if Control had any records at the station next week.

“That woman is not my girlfriend. She’s not even _my_ date. I stole her from... from under the clock at Grand Central Station. And I’m pretending to be the girl she should be on a date with.” Shaw held her breath, hoping that her old classmate understood this situation.

“Kinky!” Control blurted out.

Shaw and Control turned around to see Root standing in front of them.

“Hey... I’m Root,” the tall brunette offered her hand as she eyed the bartender carefully then stared at Shaw.

“And I am Control,” the old classmate said with a cocky shit-eating grin on her face.

“Control? Is that your name?” Root’s raised her eyebrows as she eyed the woman quizzically.

“Yes…Control,” Control said her name proudly as she put her hands on her hips.

“Are you a DJ? Or maybe a rapper?” Root asked, almost in a challenging way.

Shaw had to stifle a laugh because the image of either of those professions on Control was too absurd, especially considering the only concert shirt she ever saw her old classmate in was an NSYNC one. She was getting a jealous vibe off Root again. Shaw knew as unhealthy as Root was acting, it did turn her on even more. 

“You two know each other then?” Root furrowed her brows and crossed her arms against her chest.

“No/Yes!” Shaw and Control said at the same time with different answers.

“We did know each other. We went to school together,” that was true, except Control did indeed look more her age and not the youthful twenty-six that Shaw pretended to be as Hanna.

“We are close old friends,” Control put her arm around Shaw’s shoulders.

“We went to school together,” Shaw resisted the urge to brush off Control’s arm. She noticed Control gave her an angry look. “Old…old friends.” The last thing she wanted was to make this former crazy classmate mad.

“We had a bit of a thing going on.” Control slapped Shaw’s back hard.

Shaw winced and glared at Control – fucking shit; she didn’t just say that? Shaw thought if she wasn’t in law enforcement, she might kill Control later.

“Good for you,” even as the words left Root’s mouth, a wave of sadness washed over her eyes, and the words she spoke were lies.

“It was,” Control licked her lips and then took the bold move of slapping Shaw’s ass.

“It wasn’t…that good,” Shaw growled, nobody slapped her ass. Except she might let Root later if they were both naked, and if the tall brunette possibly handcuffed her to a bedpost.

Control wiggled her hips, suggestively, “You never forget your first.”

Shaw gritted her teeth. “So anyway…lovely to see you after all these years Control. All the best, yeah?” She gently lowered her shoulders to get from under Control’s arm.

Root smirked, watching this gesture, “Good to meet you, Control. I’ll take it from here.” She reached for Shaw’s hand to pull her back to their area.

“Hang on… _Hanna_!” Control beckoned Shaw over, and the fake Hanna realized she had no choice but to go over.

“What are you doing?!” Shaw tilted her head and spat out quietly to Control, so Root couldn’t hear.

“It appears I finally have you over a barrel, Sameen Shaw.” Control made a motion of slapping a pretend ass. “Indeed, you’re not the girl you used to be, once cool and confident, now stealing other women’s dates from under clocks.” She laughed an evil laugh; she just needed a monocle.

Shaw sighed; she didn’t think she was ever cool but whatever. “Well, you’re working as a bartender in a novelty bowling alley, we all change.”

“Just like Mr. Armstrong predicted,” Control said with a cocky grin sticking her tongue out.

“Who?” Shaw desperately wanted Control to put her tongue back in her mouth before she threw up her tequila shots.

“Careers advisor at St. Andrews. Jeez, do you remember anything about school, because I remember everything...” Control yelled the last part and looked over to Root.

Root watched the exchange, but couldn’t tell what was going on, yet it had the desired effect, and Shaw jumped at Control. “Please Control. I am out bowling _with a hot woman_. A woman who might actually have some potential and not just in a ‘she’s a really good bowler’ type way. Don’t ruin it for me. C’mon…” then Shaw gritted her teeth so hard, she was going to pay for it later, “…please.”

Control considered Shaw’s plea. She took a deep breath, then let out slowly for dramatic effect. “Okay, I won’t.”

Shaw looked visibly relieved as she let out the deep breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. “Thank you.”

Then just as Shaw turned around to head back to Root…

“If you give me a kiss. With some dry humping. Or wet humping if you like.” Control raised her eyebrows suggestively and licked her lips.

“What?!” Shaw shouted while losing her patience with this freak acquaintance.

“Take it or leave it!” Control demanded while defiantly staring at Shaw.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Shaw looked back at the door then back to Control. She wondered if Root was wondering what was taking so long.

“Oh, come on, wouldn’t hurt! Just a little grinding and I won’t dismantle your web of deceit, Little Miss Muffet,” Control winked at Shaw and ran her tongue across her lips in a suggestive manner.

“I am NOT humping with you. OR grinding of any sort.” Shaw stood firm; she crossed her arms against her chest. Ugh, she couldn’t believe she was considering this just to get to hang out with Root longer, she wasn’t ready to see the tall brunette walk away from her yet.

“What about chest area exploration?” Control watched Shaw’s arms cross her chest and ran her hands over her chest in what was supposed to be a seductive manner.

“No! Stop it, Control. No,” there were few things more serious than a serious Shaw face.

“Okay, a kiss.” Control looked softly now, going for a last-ditch plan.

Shaw wrestled with this, scrunching up her face. Ugh, why did she have to run into this fuck the past person?

“Oh, come on! I just want to fulfill a life long ambition! Remember when you did it with Kelli Lin in the H Block toilets?”

“How did you…” Shaw’s eyes went wide again with more creepy information.

“I was in the adjoining cubicle.”

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Shaw ran her hand through her hair.

“Yup, that’s what you said,” Control wiggled her finger at Shaw.

Shaw glanced nervously over at Root, who was pretending not to be impatient, or indeed jealous. She was failing at both.

“I remember sitting there, listening, thinking, why can’t I have that too?” Control looked down at Shaw with sad eyes; she was considerably taller than Shaw.

Shaw knew defeat when she saw it. “Okay, one kiss!” She glanced over at Root and smiled. How was she going to kiss Control without Root seeing was beyond her, and why did both of them have such geeky names.

“With tongues,” Control leaned into Shaw.

“No tongues. No tongues with me. No tongue zone,” Shaw motioned all over her body.

Control immediately, and suspiciously seemed calm again, “In the toilets. Before you leave tonight.”

“Yes. In the toilets,” then below her breath, “not in public dear god.”

“And it has to be tonight, or I’ll never find you again. You have no online presence.” Control wet her lips and pointed a finger at Shaw.

Shaw took that information in. PSYCHO ALERT. “Can I go now?”

“Yes! But I’ll be watching you.” Control made a gesture with her fingers to her eyes to Shaw.

Shaw sighed and said in a whisper and shivered, “Spying on me every hour of every day, seeing everything.” As she walked back to Root, Control made fake binoculars with her hands, training them on her. Might as well cue the Police’s song. Shaw internally groaned, she needed to tell Root now more than ever that she wasn’t Hanna. Maybe there was still a chance that Root will like her over Hanna? That Root would never want to meet the perky 26-year-old tri-athlete and instead want to continue this date with her? The slightly burned out grumpy 38-year-old cop. She let out a deep breath realizing that she was going to have to kiss Control instead of taking that risk.

**##--##**

Meanwhile, over at Fusco and Frankie’s house, Joss and Reese tentatively took out some appetizers from the oven.

“Shit, shit, shit. They do look a little flat,” Joss had creased brows with frustration written all over her face.

“It’s fine. They’re fine. Everyone will just get drunk and shove them down.” Reese said in his deadpan manner, which was always sincere, especially to his wife.

Joss looked at her husband, John dubiously.

“They will,” He took a piping hot pig-in-a-blanket off the tray, stuffed it in his mouth, and then immediately spat it out. “ARGHH!”

Frankie entered, in her party frock, carrying two signs that read ‘RED WINE SOFA’ and ‘WHITE WINE SOFA’ - Reese sprung up guiltily, trying to obscure the shoddy food tray from view. “Any word from Shaw?” Frankie asked, unaware of the shoddy food tray debacle.

“Not eeeeeeeexactly,” Joss put down the tray, steered Frankie into the front room, as Reese looked down at the kitchen table where all the booze was now laid out - he cracked open a beer, chugged it down, ticked ‘Booze’ off the list.

Frankie and Joss found Fusco, also in his party clothes, relaxed on one of the sofas with a glass of red wine. There was one main round table and lots of other smaller tables and chairs. A long table nearby, covered over, for now, ready for food and the big retirement cake.

“No no no no no no…where is she??” Frankie wrung her hands and then put them on her hips.

“…but in her defense, it does sound like she’s got a _very_ good reason for her tardiness,” Joss reached out and soothingly rubbed Frankie’s arm.

Frankie pulled a confused Fusco up, placing the WHITE WINE SOFA sign on the sofa he was sitting on. She shoved the RED WINE SOFA sign in his hands, directing him over to the brown, more beaten down sofa.

Fusco placed the RED WINE SOFA sign on top of the back side as he sat down on the sofa with his red wine. “She’s right, Frankie,” nudging his wife affectionately, then teasing. “And who knows, maybe today will end up being not just my retirement but also the anniversary of Shaw’s new partner?”

Frankie pondered this insight from her husband, and her face softened and relaxed a bit.

Joss taking a cue from Fusco, nudged Frankie as well. “Yeah, imagine that, Frankie. You will have one more person to bitch at,” Joss winked at her friend in a loving gesture.

They both jostled Frankie affectionately, as she gave in to their teasing but then stopped.

“Oh, for christ’s sake, Fusco, you’re a mess!” Frankie pointed to her husband’s possibly wine stained shirt.

Fusco looked down at himself. “What? Where?”

Joss surreptitiously returned to her phone for any Shaw updates.

Frankie showed her slobby husband the stain. “Oh god, what is it this time?” They both examine the stain. Fusco tasted it.

“Hummus? I think it’s hummus,” Fusco then went in for another lick of his stained shirt.

The doorbell rang out; the first guests were arriving at the party.

“Off! Off! Off!” Frankie motioned to Fusco to change his shirt.

“Guests!” Frankie motioned to Joss to get off her phone and answer the door, as Frankie and Fusco exit the living room.

“Go get ‘em, Frankie!” Joss picked up her mobile phone, typing a message to Shaw: **”WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU...HURRY UP GET LAID OR BRING HER!!”**

**##--##**

A very flushed and drunk Shaw leaned provocatively on the shoe exchange counter of the bowling alley, as a similarly high on life Root returned her shoes. There was a distinct frisson in the air, as Shaw handed her shoes over to the bored attendant. She was wearing Root’s scarf again; she liked the smell of it.

“Aw, can’t I keep them?” Root batted her eyes at the bowling shoe attendant.

The not amused bowling attendant snatched the shoes away.

“Do you honestly think that’s the first time he’s heard that?” Shaw grinned at Root with a very wide smile unknowingly with some food caught in her teeth.

“Tonight, maybe.” Root leaned a bit to Shaw and gave the wrong impression; she motioned to Shaw’s mouth. “Saving it for later?” She giggled a bit.

Shaw furrowed her brows, she thought something was happening, but now Root just motioned to her mouth in a non-romantic way.

“You’ve got...” Root put her finger on her front tooth. “Jalapeno?”

Shaw wanted to come off cool, damn it. “I was saving it for later.” She ran her finger along with her teeth, really hoping she could dislodge the offending lingering piece of food that seemed to be kiss blocking her from Root.

“Up a bit? No. Left. Left a bit more. Right. It’s sort of... wedged... nearly...I’ll help you.” Root put her fingers up to help before Shaw backed away a bit.

“I’m just going to nip to the…” Shaw motioned to the ladies’ toilets. She did not want the first time Root had her fingers anywhere inside her to be because she was helping groom her and not sex her.

“I’ll wait here.” Root said with another attempt at a non-wink. She retook her scarf and wrapped it around Shaw’s neck once again, letting her fingers roam up her torso. “I’ll think about what we can get up to next.”

Shaw looked at the clock on the wall. 8.45 pm. Yikes. She did need to get heading over to Fusco’s retirement party. Joss and Frankie were going to kill her already for her lateness.

Root leaned back against the bar and stared hard at Shaw.

Shaw felt the stare hit her right in her groin. “And I’ll go in there…” she stared hard back at Root, not opening her mouth wide to reveal the problematic food ridden teeth. “And you do think about what we can get up to next.” She hoped ‘next’ was code for sex.

Root’s eyes lit up as Shaw skipped into the bathroom with a sexy spring in her step. She went over to the mirror, next to a couple of other girls, who are immaculately reapplying their lipstick. Shaw leaned into the mirror, picking at the jalapeno in her teeth. The girls looked at her sympathetically and exited. Shaw finally got the jalapeno out of her teeth - result - looked around, she checked to see if there was nobody else in there to see her. Shaw then smirked to herself in the mirror. She mimicked Root’s sexy tone, ‘What do you want to do next, what do I want to do next…’ She then pretended to dry hump the sink when suddenly, from underneath the cubicle nearest to her - a hand grabbed her ankle. Shaw yanked her ankle away as she looked down to see...Control looking up at her.

“Fucking hell, Control!” Shaw wanted to kick the annoying former classmate for sneaking up on her.

“I saw you were about to leave, so I took my break early,” Control said with just her head poking out from under the stall.

Shaw feigned innocence, “Leaving? I wasn’t leaving...” Yeah, she could tell in her voice, she wasn’t selling this lie.

Control’s head disappeared, and the toilet door swung open. She stood wearing just her loud orange socks, a bra with pink flamingos on it, and g-string underwear that read ‘Party’ right on the crotch area.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Shaw said with her mouth hanging open in utter shock.

“Not yet!” Control walked over to Shaw. “I left my socks on because it’s always a strong look.”

“Uhhh…agreed…it is a very strong look…” Shaw wondered how fast she could sprint out of the bathroom. As she turned to make a break for it, she heard Control clear her throat.

“Okay, well, I’ll just put my clothes back on and go _outside_ and have a little chat with ‘Root’ about ‘Hanna,’” Control threatened, and damn despite the pink flamingo bra, she looked intimidating.

Chastened, Shaw turned back to give Control a murderous glare.

“Where do you want to land those luscious lips?” Control puckered up her lips as she ran her hand down her chest and over her breasts, she gyrated around a bit and moved closer to Shaw.

Shaw looked around the toilets. Somebody help? No, nobody. Why was there no one in the bathroom right now to interrupt this blackmail operation. She took a deep breath, was getting to spend more time tonight with Root having to kiss Control? Damn it. Root might be worth it. At least Control smelled okay and not like soup or something weird. Shaw glared at Control, “We’re leaving the stall door open.”

“Now, you’re talking!” Control bounced up and down on her feet.

Shaw took in Control’s physique. She was an attractive woman, just fucking annoying as hell to her.

Control pumped her gun arms, ”Impressive, right?”

Shaw poked one of Control’s arms, actually quite impressed; her arm was solid muscle.

“And these babies have had 15 years of dating Pamela Handerson…going Hands Solo on Darth Vader’s helmet if you know what I mean…” Control went on while pumping her arms out for display.

Shaw stared at Control blank-faced.

“I have been wanking a lot,” Control was a little disappointed with no reaction from Shaw.

Control grabbed Shaw’s scarf, actually Root’s scarf, over her shoulders, wrapping it around the back of her head, which pulled the scarf and Shaw towards her. She started to sing Spice Girls’ ‘2 Become 1’. “Will you hold my face?”

“Why?” Shaw couldn’t look more bored if she tried.

“It will make it more romantic.”

“I don’t think this could be any more romantic, Control.” Shaw knew she was going to have to give a little to get this blackmail kiss over quickly. She rolled her eyes.

Control looked pleadingly at Shaw. She reluctantly reached her hands up to control’s face, whose face looked like she couldn’t believe her luck. She was just about to be kissed by Sameen Shaw. Control suddenly spun Shaw round, dropping her down in a dramatic embrace, pulling one of her legs around her back.

“Hanna?” Root’s voice echoed through the bathroom.

Shaw scrambled to look over Control’s shoulder - but their necks were bound together now by the scarf - to see Root standing there. Shaw was entwined with a half-naked Control. This did not look good.

“Hey lady,” Control smugly shouted out.

“Root!” Shaw frantically tried to get untangled from Root’s scarf wrapped around her and Control’s head.

Root looked totally thrown, “You’d been gone a while, so I thought maybe I should come and check on you.” Her eyes went back and forth between Shaw and Control and their somewhat comprising position. A look of confusion bleed into sadness in a few seconds.

“What is happening here is definitely not what you think is happening here,” Shaw was still fighting a losing battle with the tangled scarf situation. Then when they rotated, Control was in all her nearly naked glory for Root to see.

“I think I’m just going to leave,” Root couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The sting of rejection sounded heavy in her voice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shoot Week Day 4!

After spinning wildly around and pulling hard, Shaw finally freed herself from the tangled scarf. “Root, wait! Let me explain!”

Control grabbed onto the scarf and didn’t let go; she brought it up to her nose and inhaled deeply with a wicked smile.

“It’s okay,” Root shrugged with actual puppy dog eyes towards Shaw.

Shaw could tell, it was not okay by the tone of Root’s voice and that damn puppy dog look in her eyes.

“I thought we had a connection, but you know, you obviously still have feelings for…Control and...” Root waved her hands in a defeated gesture.

“No no no, you don’t understand, please, don’t go,” Shaw rushed to stand in front of Root, and she grabbed Root’s arm gently.

“Root, chill girl.” Control wrapped what she thought was Shaw’s scarf back around her neck. She pushed off the toilet and moved to stand next to Shaw, where she put her arm around Shaw’s shoulders territorially. “Don’t be so harsh on Shaw,” Control smirked at Root.

Shaw froze, fucking Control damn it. She squeezed her eyes shut; she didn’t want to open them and see Root walking away.

“Who’s Shaw?” Root’s brow creased, and her eyes went back and forth between Shaw and Control.

Control looked at Shaw and snorted. “Oops!” 

“Why is she calling you Shaw?” Root’s brow furrowed, an angry vibe emanating from her body as she stared hard at Shaw.

“It was my _other_ pet name for her!” Control gushed as if telling a secret.

Shaw couldn’t believe she felt somewhat grateful for Control’s terrible lie right now, although she did cringe inside.

“Like Shaw Baby. Like Shaw Sweetie.” Control loved the attention she was getting from Shaw. “And, of course, Shaw Buttercup.”

Shaw suddenly can’t help nearly laughing. The absurdity of the situation was finally getting to her. No one called her buttercup, and no one ever would if they valued walking and breathing.

“I’m gonna go,” Root stared into Shaw’s eyes, then pulled her arm out of Shaw’s grasp.

“No, don’t,” Shaw didn’t want Root to leave. She wasn’t thinking about what she was going to say would any major effect on the evening now anyway. “Wait, Root, let me tell you the truth. Now seems as good a time as any to confess…” She dared to look at Root in the eyes again.

“Confess what?” Root crossed her arms against her chest.

“The reason Control just called me Shaw.” Shaw took a deep breath and held it. “It’s because I’m not called Hanna. And the reason I am not called Hanna is because I am not actually Hanna.” She let out her breath and scrunched up her nose and eyes.

Control reached to put her arm around Shaw again, which she shoved off this time.

“She’s Shaw. Sameen Shaw.” Control said in the way as if she was announcing Bond. James Bond.

Shaw scrunched up her entire face this time, along with her eyes. “Okay, you can put your clothes back on and leave now Control.”

“But my kiss…” Control tried to protest with a huff and pout.

“Go!” Shaw growled, there was no mistaking her anger at her former classmate, if looks could kill, there would be some blood splattered all over the bathroom walls and floor.

Control grabbed her clothes and exited, stealing and inhaling once again Root/Shaw’s scarf to her face as she walked out. Root rolled her eyes; she did not want her scarf back after that woman had wrapped it around her neck.

Shaw shuffled from foot to foot in a nervous gesture. She thought to herself, what the hell am I doing? Shaw realized with anger bubbling up at Control; she also thought it would suck if Root left her alone, it made her stomach feel weird and full of air as if it was dropping.

“Anyway, I was in here with her because she said she wouldn’t tell you who I was if I kissed her…” Shaw knew she had continued on; ugh fuck the present, “…because I’m not your blind date, Root. But you thought I was, what with that damn book, and the clock and quid pro quo...” Shaw rambled on and motioned with hands, hoping her stealing a blind date logic was going to pay off. 

Root stared back at Shaw with confusion written all over her face; her eyebrows were all furrowed. 

“It’s my favorite movie!” Shaw barked out, she didn’t mean to be so forceful, although if she had to catalog it Joss would say it was a passionate outburst. “So sue me, I went with it. And then we started having such a nice time…” Shaw ran her hands through her hair; she wanted to go on and tell Root how this was the best date she had in a long time, maybe her whole life.

“Hang on. You’re not the girl I was supposed to meet earlier?” Root tilted her head and glared at Shaw, the pieces coming together.

“No,” Shaw said as she glanced at Root then away.

“Whoa.” Root’s eyes went wide and then turned away.

“I know it does sound a bit mad! But don’t think mad, think... impulsive!” Shaw went back to passionate outburst mode.

“What kind of person stands waiting under a clock to steal someone’s blind date? A lunatic woman…” Root stared intensely at Shaw, “..how long did you camp out to trap me? Where is the poor girl I was supposed to meet!”

Shaw overlapped with Root, “I wasn’t _waiting_ under the clock, and it wasn’t _stealing_ in the conventional sense of the word, that girl GAVE me her book! Which is why you thought I was her,” Shaw defended herself to Root as she stared back.

“I thought you were her because you said you were her!” Root yelled back at Shaw.

“But did I say that?” Shaw pointed out the loophole, okay, so she might be acting more like the scums she arrests right now, but it was the truth, Root made the wrong assumption first, and she just went along with it because the tall brunette was so damn charming and hot.

“And when were you planning on telling me the truth about this quite frankly psychotic decision of yours?” Root spat back at Shaw.

Okay, Shaw thought, that stung a bit. “Well, there wasn’t a plan in place per say…” Shaw rubbed her chin.

Root becoming more and more incredulous, “Because who would have a plan for something like this!”

“Exactly!” Shaw exclaimed with a smirk; maybe Root was getting it?  
“Something so fucked up!”

Root is not getting it, Shaw realized. “I think people have done worse things in the world... and anyway, she wasn’t right for you.” Shaw crossed her arms against her chest.

“Perhaps you would have allowed me to come to that conclusion myself?” Root got up in Shaw’s personal space.

“I wasn’t trying to meet anyone…then there you were…talking about my favorite movie…smelling fucking fantastic and smiling like this kind of smile I have never seen before…” Shaw wanted to glue her mouth shut before she said anything else, making her sound like a lovesick, desperate fool that went around stealing people’s dates.

“Who the hell are you anyway?!” Root looked Shaw up and down.

“I am Shaw, Sameen Shaw.” Shaw realized she might want to stop announcing her name James Bond style.

“Are you even really a triathlete?” Root’s nose scrunched up at her question.

“That’s the next thing you ask?”

“And where the hell is Hanna?” Root pulled out her phone from her pant pocket.

“I would have thought she’s probably gone home by now.” Shaw snarked a bit, she didn’t care for Hanna, and she knew in her gut that Root and Hanna would not have hit it off.

A small group of young women barreled into the bathroom; they stopped in their tracks, looking at the two older women glaring at each other. There was tension in the bathroom; the young women raised their eyebrows to each other. There was some heavy reality drama shit going down in the toilets.

“Past her bedtime,” Shaw continued with her snark as she huffed towards Root.

The group of young women watched with wide eyes and whispered to each other as they made their way over to the sinks to check their make-up.

Then Root realized, “Are you even 26?”

“Add another 10. Plus, 2.”

“Whoa!” Root exclaimed, shocked by yet another reveal.

“Fuck you, grandma!” Shaw spat back at Root; the taller brunette was older than her.

“Not in 6 billion years,” Root shot back at Shaw, there were definitely angry vibes coming off the woman and solely directed at Shaw.

The young women stood motionless at the sinks, several mascara applicators held in mid-air near their eyes. They were trying to reapply their make-up but also completely drawn into this middle age lady drama; oh yeah, these women did want to fuck each other despite their verbal protests.

“That was so uncalled for,” Shaw snapped back, that stung.

“So was derailing my date!”

Shaw turned to the young women at the sinks; she glared at them, watching them as they snickered at her and Root.

“Laugh it up, girls. I am your future,” Shaw motioned with her hands up and down her body, then pointed to Root.

“38?!” Root glared at Shaw then turned and stormed out of the bathroom, Shaw followed behind her.

They both tried to storm off together, towards the cloakroom, racing each other.

“I think you’re over-reacting just a little bit,” Shaw gave it a shot as they got to the cloakroom window to retrieve their coats.

“How would you feel, _Shaw_? You’ve been set up to meet someone who is meant to be absolutely perfect for you…”

A sweet looking teenage boy appeared at the cloakroom window.

Root continued, not paying attention to the cloakroom attendant, “…but you don’t get to meet them, because some psycho pretends to be them instead? They steal away at your chance of happiness.”

Root aggressively took a ticket out of her back pocket, handing it over to a now slightly afraid cloakroom attendant, who is transfixed by their conversation.

Shaw rolled her eyes at Root, “Firstly, ‘set ups’ and blind dates, they never work out because…”

“Zoe said we matched!” Root turned to Shaw to yell this part.

“Oh pleeeeease. She reads self- help books and loves the Da Vinci Code. What does that even mean??”

“It means she’s an insightful, 26-year-old enlightened woman!” Root wasn’t entirely convinced she meant that assessment.

“You really liked the 26-year-old part, didn’t you?” Shaw squinted her eyes at Root.

“Ah, the classic retort of a lonely, bitter 38-year-old woman desperate for someone…”

“Well, at least I’m nearly at my sexual peak,” Shaw licked her lips and stared at Root’s mouth, then her eyes trailed down the rest of her body. “It’s all downhill for you now…knock knock, who’s there…pre-menopause.”

The look on Root’s face was ‘oh no she didn’t’ as she glared at Shaw, her breathing picking up and nostrils flaring. Root couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap Shaw or kiss that fucking cocky grin off her face.

The cloakroom attendant scurried off to retrieve their items at the mention of pre-menopause.

“Wow. The angry, bitter look suits you. No wonder Tomas slept around on you... Oh wait... there is no Tomas.”

“And there is no wife. Because she left you. ‘Oh, I’m so wounded, and rejected, please help me young woman who is nearly half my age,’” Shaw said the last part in a high pitch tone.

“This, from a woman who had to steal someone else’s date in order to even get one,” Root shouted back at Shaw even though they were standing in each other’s personal space, nearly breathing on each other.

“At least I’m not walking around thinking I’m super cool and nice. Ooh, look at me, with my own flat, and my online marketing management job, but what I really want to do is cooooooddddeee.”

“I am going to code!” Root’s nostrils flared as she yelled back at Shaw.

“Sure you are,” Shaw snorted.

Cloakroom attendant boy came back with two of Root’s belongings, and Shaw’s bag for them.

“And big congratulations on a massive pack of lies.” Root yanked her jacket from the attendant. “Where’s my bag?”

“Um, that was all that was on the ticket, I’m afraid,” said a now nervous cloakroom attendant boy.

Root glared at Shaw, “Where’s my bag?”

“How should I know?”

Shaw went into her own bag... confused, she pulled out one of the notepads from her bag, “Why have I got your notebook?”

Root let out a frustrated growl and sigh. “We left my bag in the stupid cantina.”

Shaw shoved Root’s notebook at her, “Your bag Root, not mine. How many tequilas did you have?”

“It’s got my divorce papers in it!” Root’s eyes went wide and gasped.

“Ooh, lame.” Shaw didn’t know what to say; she just knew she wanted to annoy the tall cougar chasing woman.

“I came straight from the lawyers,” Root wanted to beat her head against the nearest wall.

“Ooh, even lamer,” Shaw wanted to get in as many digs before she left this pretentious woman.

Root started to walk off when it clicked in Shaw’s fuzzy, slightly drunk head. “Wait, your divorce papers…and my notebook... ugh fuck my life…my speech.”

“What fucking speech?” Root whipped around and glared at Shaw.

Shaw and Root charged outside, Root still held onto her notepad. Shaw looked over and saw the anxious, stressful look on Root’s face. She took a deep breath and decided to tell the truth.

“The speech is for my friend’s retirement party tonight…” Shaw was about to continue before Root cut her off.

“Oh this just gets better and better. Not only do you steal someone else’s blind date, but you also stand up your friend on one of the most important milestones of their lives? You need to seriously look at your motivations for doing and not doing things.” Root shook her head at Shaw in a condescending way.

“I’m not standing up my friend, I’m fashionably late …that’s what he loves about me,” Shaw huffed, slightly contrite looking as she walked off. “I need my speech.” She turned and saw Root start to hail a taxi.

“What are you doing?” Shaw looked to Root, totally confused.

“Getting a cab back to the bar,” Root made a ‘duh’ look with big eyes and a head shake.

“It’s only a 10-minute walk,” Shaw pointed down the street.

“No, it’s not, it’s like 20 minutes, were you paying attention at all when we got here?”

“What are you talking about, it’s 10 minutes!”

“You seem pretty confident about that, _Shaw_? “Root challenged.

“Because it’s a fact, _Root_.”

A taxi pulled up in front of the bowling alley as the women stared each other down.

“Oh it’s a _fact_ is it? Like the _fact_ you’re a triathlete?”

“Whatever princess…I could beat you any day,” as much as Shaw liked the look of Root, the woman did not look overly athletic, and while she was not a triathlete, she did keep in shape for her job.

“I tell you what, here’s an idea. Why don’t you run, swim and cycle to the bar, and we’ll see who gets there first?” Root narrowed her eyes as she proposed a wager to Shaw.

Shaw looked at Root, confused.

“Ha you don’t even know what a triathlon is,” Root pointed her finger in Shaw’s face.

“Yeah I do, and I can kick your scrawny ass,” Shaw grabbed Root’s finger tightly in her grip. She wasn’t letting go until Root yanked her hand away, which took a few moments. Both unwillingly to admit they enjoyed the awkward competitive physical contact.

“Oh you do, do you? Well, ready, steady…” Roots jumped into the taxi. “Go!”

Shaw took her cue and immediately started to run. As the taxi pulled away, Root waved goodbye and then looked out the back window, tapping her watch - tick tock, tick tock!

A determined look comes over Shaw’s face. “Get. Stronger. Thighs.” Shaw kept running and not just any old run. A focused, almost triathlete like run. Steady, eyes on the prize, through the side streets of New York. Shaw got to a main road - a group of girls - a bachelorette party, blocked her way - she started to wade through them, in a breaststroke fashion. She was basically swimming. She got through the crowd, picked up her running pace again, a little tired, but not deterred.

Root, in the taxi, had a triumphant look on her face at first...then hitting some late-night traffic her smile turned into a frown.

Shaw went down an alleyway, popped out the other side; she spotted a row of those silly rent scooter things, she swiped her credit card quickly and sped off on a scooter. She swore she would never ride one of the scooters that littered the streets of her neighborhood, but she had a self-entitled online marketing manager to beat.

As the taxi pulled up, Root was impatient to get out. She walked briskly towards the cantina, still carrying her notebook just as a disheveled, sweaty, puddle-splashed Shaw came speeding around the corner, pulling up right by Root - wheel screech!

“In your 40-year-old face!” Shaw shouted to Root.

“I thought you weren’t competitive?” Root tilted her head.

“I thought _you_ weren’t competitive?” Shaw threw the scooter down on the sidewalk.

“I think the scooter is cheating,” Root raised her eyebrows. 

“No, it’s not. I couldn’t find a bike so,” Shaw shrugged.

Root ignored Shaw and checked her watch; she looked ominously at the door to the bar.

“It had better be in there.” Root eyed the door as if it was leading into a haunted house.

Shaw pushed past Root. “Of course, it will be in there.” Her shoulder bumped Root but not in an aggressive way, the taller woman followed behind her.

They both scanned the bar, which was far busier now as it was officially evening. The dance floor was now full of tourists, dancing to the cheesy music of the DJ.

The same bartender remembered them, “Hey, you two want some more tequila!”

Shaw and Root responded at the same time with the same answer. “No.” Both of their faces looking quite grim and morose.

“Is her fanny pack here?” Honestly, Shaw can’t quite remember what type of bag Root had carried; she wanted to pick something that might get a rise out of Root.

Root put her notebook down on the bar, looked up and down the bar, seeming satisfied about something, “It’s a _satchel_.”

“Let me go check,” the bartender walked off.

Shaw looked down at herself, aware she is a right mess. She started to walk off towards the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Root’s brows furrowed.

“To the toilets,” Shaw pointed to the bathroom.

“Meeting someone?” Root raised her eyebrows because, honestly, she didn’t put anything past this woman now.

“No. So you don’t need to follow me in there this time,” even though Shaw didn’t want to admit she kind of wanted Root to follow her, but she knew she needed a few moments to clean herself up. Riding a scooter did not style one’s hair very well plus, she got puddle splashes up and down her body.

“No, intention of ever doing that again, thanks,” Root admitted to herself the only reason she had followed Shaw into the last bathroom was in hopes of kissing her. She never expected to find Shaw kissing someone else.

Shaw barged into the bathroom, all outwardly flustered from running and interacting with Root. She headed for the mirrors to inspect the damage. She wailed with frustration, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Shaw got her phone out of her bag, 10 missed calls and messages from Joss. She dialed Joss back quickly, clocking what a state she looked in the mirror. She got a tissue, wiped some scooter mud off her face. “Fuck.” Joss’s phone rang and rang, then went to voicemail.

**##--##**

Fusco’s retirement party was underway now, music playing loudly, everyone enjoying themselves, drinking red and white wine on the correct sofas. A small child casually drank a glass of Prosecco, which was quickly swiped away by a breezy Joss, who downed it herself. She smiled over at Frankie, who laughed at Fusco, eating a mini pizza, proudly demonstrating that his change of jumper was still stain free.

Reese slowly maneuvered over with a fresh tray of sausage rolls, which he presented it to Joss. He popped one in her mouth; she popped one in his mouth, they high-fived, hip bumped and returned to their nibbles duties. Joss’s unanswered ringing phone, on a nearby table displaying a resting bitch face photo of Shaw as the ringing faded and the call went to voicemail.

**##--##**

As soon as Joss’s phone went to voicemail, Shaw grumbled and hung up. She chucked her phone in her bag, got out some wipes from her bag, and cleaned up her face. Then grabbed some more wipes and ran them over her neck, arms, and under her shirt. She was suddenly infuriated with herself.

“Nice one, Shaw,” she grumbled to herself some more as she applied some mascara. “Hey, new mantra.” She surveyed her face again and added some touch-ups here and there. “Stop. Being. Such. A. Loser.” She stared at herself in the mirror. “Wait…you are cool. Don’t let that bony armed woman rattle you.”

Root did rattle Shaw, though, for some reason, she didn’t know why. She was rattled in her bones and very rattled in her pants. She wondered if she could use a wipe down there. She took her damp plaid top off, leaving a black tank top on. Shaw straightened the tank top, tighten her bra strap, pushing her breasts higher, and then ruffled her hair. She threw a cardigan over her shoulder. She stopped for a second and got the wipes out again and did one more swipe cleaning under her arms; she wanted to make sure she smelled better. Shaw had successfully pulled herself together after her sweaty tri-athlete adventure back to the bar.

Root scanned the bar again, checking her watch and getting more anxious. She wondered when Shaw was going to return so they could leave. She didn’t want to leave without Shaw even though their fake date was probably technically over, but she wanted to leave the bar immediately. As she turned, Shaw exited the bathroom. Root did a double-take at her - god, she looked even more stunning if that was possible. It’s as if Shaw was finally coming out instead of the fake Hanna. Shaw arrived at the bar, oblivious to Root checking her out, she just resolutely stared straight ahead blank-faced. Root paused, suddenly not sure what to say next. She had been attracted to Shaw when she thought she was Hanna, but she was finding this woman before her even more wildly attractive.

“Do you even like bowling?” Root asked with a tilt of her head intrigued by ‘meeting’ Shaw for the first time.

Shaw kept her eyes ahead and didn’t look at Root. “I _love_ bowling.”

“Oh, so you haven’t been faking it the whole night then?” Root rolled her eyes.

“And I bet you’ve said _that_ line before,” Shaw almost cringed at herself, okay that was low.

Root scowled back at Shaw.

“Look, for the record, I realize this isn’t my finest hour. And in hindsight, agreeing to Control’s...demands was possibly not the best decision I’ve made all evening or in recent months,” Shaw looked slowly into Root’s eyes.

“You could have just told me the truth,” Root stared back at Shaw with softer, less mean squinted eyes.

“I was going to, it was just…” she wanted to say ‘Hanna’ did better on this date than any date she ever had.

The bartender reappeared with Root’s bag. “One fancy fanny pack.” He winked at Shaw.

“It’s a satchel,” relieved, Root started to rummage around in her bag for Shaw’s notebook. She laughed suddenly, “Black Pant Wash.”

Shaw shrugged with a grin; she was caught yet again. Root took out Shaw’s notebook, placing it alongside her notebook on the bar.

Root smiled, a smile that lit up a room, “Idiot.”

Shaw smiled back; she wasn’t sure if Root was calling herself an idiot or her. Only one response might work. “Idiot.”

A blonde-haired woman standing behind Root suddenly turned at the sound of Shaw saying ‘idiot’.

“Root?” The blonde woman spoke to the back of Root’s head.

Root spun around, her smile fading as she saw Martine, a precise looking blonde woman who carried herself well and knew it.

“What are you doing here? I thought we’d agreed.” Martine gave Root a cold, hard stare.

“What am I doing here, what are _you_ doing here?” Root feigned innocence.

Shaw’s brows furrowed, who the hell was this icy woman. Suddenly, a man appeared next to Martine’s side; he was sort of handsome in a smarmy way.

“Hello Root,” he smirked in a British accent no less.

“Fuck off Jeremy,” Root hissed to the man.

Martine suddenly whipped a small diary out of her expensive purse. “I get this place, between 5 and 10 pm on a Saturday.” She opened the page then turned the diary around to shove it close to Root’s face.

“Oh, I thought it was on a Sunday,” Root said in her most sarcastic tone.

Martine showed her marked diary to Root. Shaw peered over Root’s shoulder to get a look at the blonde woman’s stupid diary, she was surprised by this information, and she wanted to smack this woman in the face with said diary.

“I think we all know that _you_ know it’s not a Sunday,” Martine put her arm through Jeremy’s arm, ran her hand up his arm, and squeezed.

“Oh how I miss that pissy little diary. Do you still write’M’ when it’s mustache dyeing week?” Root snarked back to the blonde woman.

Martine instinctively touched her top lip, and Jeremy looked surprised and uncomfortable. He squinted his eyes to see if he could see the makings of a mustache.

“Oh. He didn’t know.” Root whispered loudly for Jeremy to hear her; she turned her head to smile at Shaw.

Jeremy put his arm protectively around Martine. Root suddenly put her arm around Shaw.

“This is Shaw, by the way,” Root barely waited for a second or thought before she added, “…she’s my girlfriend.”

Shaw looked at Root with a ‘WTF’ face. Well, she thought, this could get interesting; maybe she should keep up the Hanna profile instead of diving into a darker cop life.

“Shaw, this is Martine. My soon to be ex-wife. And Jeremy, the man she left me for,” Root pointed at Jeremy even though he was standing next to them. “Sorry, I meant her mistress and well now…ball and chain.”

“Come on, Root. Be nice,” Jeremy said in a probably fake British accent.

The pieces were falling into place for Shaw, oh this isn’t good, she thought. She could feel the bitterness and anger vibrating off Root now, all due to her ex-wife being here. Why did Root bring her here of all places? Did she want to run into her ex-wife on purpose? And be on a date with a 26-year-old triathlete?

Root was also radiating a ton of manic, anxiety energy. “So…we’re in the same bar, with our _new_ partners, but we’re all adults, right? Mature, wise, stable adults. Let’s have a drink together. Have you got a table?”

Everything out of Root’s mouth was said in such a rush, words almost colliding with each other streaming so fast out of Root’s mouth.

“Yes. We have a table,” Martine rolled her eyes at Root.

“Is it _our_ table?” Root asked with a tilt of her head to her ex.

Martine took Jeremy’s hand and led him to the table. “Not anymore.”

“Even better. Come on, then, let’s go,” Root nearly yelled as she motioned with her hand for Shaw to walk in front of her, placing her hand on Shaw’s back briefly as a polite gesture but also as something more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shoot Week Day 5!

Shaw stopped and pulled Root aside. “Oh my god you knew they were going to be in here earlier. That’s why you brought me here.” She stared hard into Root’s guilty eyes. 

“Actually, that’s why I brought _Hanna_ here…” Root squinted her eyes at Shaw who got back the harsh stare in return, “…but I came to my senses. Then because you left my bag…we got stuck here.”

“ _You_ left _your_ bag,” Shaw shot back to Root. 

“We walked right back into it. And then you came out of the bathroom, looking a bit…super sexy hot…” Root flustered, her cheeks turning red, “…and I just thought.” Shaw glared hard at Root. “You were super sexy hot all night, but the lone blank tank top really pushes it over the hot edge.” 

Shaw stood there and let what Root was saying to her sink in. Root actually said she looked super sexy hot, huh? Twice. Maybe she did still stand a chance with Root as Shaw and not as Hanna. A big maybe, could be worth a shot to do this lie for Root. 

Root added quietly, “People have done worse things in the world? Like AIs genetically engineering a virus to wipe out the weakest in the human race.” 

Shaw balked at that, okay it got dark really fast she thought. 

“And you’re excellent at pretending to be someone you’re not.” Root tilted her head and added pleading, eyes to Shaw. 

Shaw rolled her eyes, not engaging with Root; that one stung a bit. 

Root sighed, then used her last ammo. “You owe me, Shaw.”

Shaw looked up. She glanced over at Martine and Jeremy, sitting together now at THE table, waiting for Root and her new partner to come over. She could see the pain on Root’s face. 

“What exactly are you hoping to achieve?”

“I believe they call it ‘closure.’”

**##--##**

The Fusco retirement party completely underway now across the city. An irritated Joss stood by the door while she looked at her phone. 

“I missed a call from her. This is getting silly now, she’s not even going to make it for the speech! What the fuck is she playing at?” Joss held up her phone as Reese walked up to her with another drink he shoved into her device free hand. 

“What you always tell her to do?” Reese shrugged as he took a sip of his beer. 

“Yeah, well, not the greatest night to start listening to me finally,” Joss squinted her eyes as she took a sip of her drink. She did love her cheeky husband. 

“She’s being spontaneous and fun,” Reese moved and put his arm around his wife’s waist. 

“Yeah, well be spontaneous when there’s nothing else planned!” Joss turned her head to glare up at her husband. “Don’t you think it’s just a bit...”

“I’m going to wait and see what’s actually happened, before I pass judgment,” Reese raised his eyebrows to his wife. 

“Are you? Good for you,” Joss gave her husband her strongest stink eye. 

“Joss, has she ever done anything like this before?” Reese once again raising his eyebrows to further state his case. 

Joss let out a long sigh. “Never.”

“What was that?” Reese tilted her his head so his ear could be close to her mouth. 

“Never.” Joss said louder as a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her husband always did smell good and was very reasonable. 

“She’s out there, somewhere, doing you proud, meeting someone,” Reese gave a smile to his wife. 

Reese leaned into Joss and they kissed, a sweet less than chaste yet too short lip lock. 

“A strange, woman off the street.” Joss pulled back to stare at Reese. 

“I bet they’re having a lovely time, just like when we first met,” Reese kissed her cheek. 

“We met in the safety of a bar,” Joss rolled her eyes at her husband. 

“Oh, but what a romantic bar,” Reese put his arms around Joss, pulling her into an embrace. 

“It was a sports bar John,” Joss teased her husband as she sank into his warm embrace. 

“Remember the first thing you ever said to me?” Reese pulled Joss even closer so that there was no space between their bodies. 

“The Clippers suck, the Knicks are going to win,” Joss remembered fondly of the meeting that changed her life. 

“And I said?” Reese bent his head to stare into his wife’s eyes. 

“I’m undercover,” Joss shook her head and laughed and at the memory her husband was undercover as a Clippers fan. 

“What is the worst case scenario of Shaw tonight?” 

“We never see her again…and the Clippers win,” Joss gave her husband some quality side eye. 

“And the second worst case scenario?” Reese smiled as he pulled his wife back into the party but not before her another kiss. 

**##--##**

The four of them sat down at the small table in the ever increasingly crowded bar. Martine glared at Root. Root glared at Martine. A small war had been declared. Martine broke first, starting to nudge a speechless, horrified Jeremy to say something. Shaw smirked, she was glad Root was no longer with this asshole woman. 

“What’s happening,” Jeremy asked with wide eyes as he turned to Martine getting cold stares from Root and Shaw. 

“Just go with it,” Martine leaned into Jeremy and kissed his cheek. 

“Yes. Go with it, Jeremy,” Root snarled at Jeremy as she took a long sip on her drink. 

Root and Shaw, both stared off in the distance, everything was a bit awkward. Shaw drowned her entire beer in one go, while Root chugged her fruity cocktail. Then Root rubbed Shaw’s bare shoulders and gave a kiss to her skin. Shaw’s eyes went wide and smirked. 

“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” Martine gave both Root and Shaw the worst fake smile possible. 

Root grabbed an olive and started to seductively force feed Shaw, except her fake date wasn’t having it, but she finally opened her mouth and ate it. 

“Oh, not long,” Root then placed her arm down on the table after force-feeding Shaw. 

Shaw realized there was a pit in the olive; she looked around on where to spit it out. Seeing no place, she grabbed on Root’s hand and spit the pit into it. Martine looked on disgust while Jeremy looked on with raised curious eyes. 

“Not long at all,” Shaw replied back now that her mouth was free from the olive pit. Root gently put the olive pit down on the table, she knew this would horrify her ex-wife. 

“How did you meet?” Jeremy looked back and forth to Root and Shaw. 

Root and Shaw both blurt out at the same time. “At a party/work.”

“A work party,” Root said firmly, clarifying the lie. 

“A party that worked,” Shaw raised a new beer and drank down a long gulp. 

Martine eyed the dark haired beauty sitting next to her ex-wife. “Are you in online marketing too?”

Root then childishly imitated her voice, “Are you in online marketing too?”

Shaw did not want to say her actual profession either. She spotted a fire extinguisher in the corner of the room. 

“No, I’m a firewoman.” Shaw said smugly, she could definitely pull off a fire fighter; she had the muscle to prove it. 

Root glared at Shaw, but then she tilted her head and licked her lips when she thought how hot of a fire fighter Shaw would be. “There was a fire…”

“At her work party…” Shaw raised her eyebrows suggestively, “…and then later in both of our pants.”

Root looked at Shaw. Seriously? However, she had to admit, her own pants at the moment were getting very warm. “A damn inferno.” 

Shaw attempted a polite conversation, “So Martine, what do you do for a living?” She really didn’t give a shit what this uppity, frigid woman did for a living. And she was having a hard time seeing how Root and this bitch were ever married. 

Martine had a condescending posture and tone as if she was in some elite organization hell bent on world domination, “I’m an account manager for a leading PR firm.”

“Mind blowing!” Shaw replied back in her most condescending tone. “And you, Jeremy?” She turned her head to stare at the mistress man, and Shaw knew her stares can be hard to maintain for the intended target. 

Jeremy acted as if he was also saving the world with his puffed out chest, “I’m a merchant banker.”

“Interesting fact, _merchant banker_ is cockney rhyming slang for _wanker_ ,” Root couldn’t help but glare again at Jeremy. 

“Oh for Christ’s sake Root,” Martine glared back at Root, looking even more stuck up with her blonde hair done up so tightly in a bun. 

“What? I’m just saying,” Root feigned innocence. 

“It’s been a year!” Martine exclaimed leaning forward on the table to really glare at Root. 

“It’s okay Mar, it’s not the first time I’ve heard that one,” Jeremy rubbed his hand over Martine’s back. 

Shaw laughed and slapped her hand on the table hard. “I’ve never heard it before.”

Jeremy clearly was affected by the slang, “I’m unaffected by it.” 

Root mouthed ‘wanker’ at him, Shaw tried not to laugh first but found her fake date’s teasing funny. 

“And it’s been more than a year Martine. It’s been…” Root made a dramatic gesture of counting on her hand, “…three hundred and sixty eight days. Not that I’ve been crossing them off my wall calendar of pain and deceit.” She slammed her finished drink on the table, “I have to use the facilities.” 

Root got up and stormed off, she bumped into a waitress next to the table in her hasty exit, which sent chips and salsa flying everywhere. “Shit, sorry,” she looked to the waitress, truly sorry but kept on racing for the safe haven of the bathroom. 

Jeremy touched Martine’s arm, “Don’t worry, snookums.” 

Shaw mouthed to herself ‘snookums?!’ 

“This was bound to happen sooner or later,” Jeremy rubbed Martine’s arm now. 

Martine turned to Shaw and in her condescending voice and supreme uppity voice, “You’ll find this with her. She’s a very emotional woman.” 

Jeremy put a protective arm around Martine, as if emotions are like a disease not to be caught. Shaw glared at the asshole couple, then turned to the waitress, “We’re going to need some more chips and salsa please.” 

The waitress nodded to Shaw in a ‘no shit’ attitude then wandered off. Shaw turned to Martine and Jeremy once more. Anger was coursing through her veins. 

“So you two had an affair, right?” Shaw pointed her finger and both of them. 

Martine and Jeremy stiffen. 

“We fell in love.” Martine declared glaring back at Shaw. 

“But you had an affair?” Shaw shot back to Martine. 

“The marriage was over, anyway,” Jeremy waved his hand as if illustrating his sorry ass point. 

“But you had an affair?” Shaw pushed again, not giving up on these assholes. 

Martine and Jeremy are forced to nod. 

“Yup, she sure is an ‘emotional’ woman.” Shaw continued to give the two cheating assholes a death glare. And she knew her death glares were scary, she’s been told many times not to do them by Joss. 

As the waiter brought some more chips and salsa to the table, Shaw scooped them all towards herself, and started eating them. Root finally arrived back from the bathroom. She appeared calmed down. 

The look on Root’s face startled Shaw, as a cop she knew that look. That is the look of someone who was about to confess to a crime. 

“Okay. Sorry about that. The truth is, Martine…” Root let out a deep sigh. 

Shaw suddenly ran her finger seductively down Root’s arm. “I missed you, Cocoa Puffs.”

Root looked at Shaw - WTF? Shaw leaned in and gave her a seductive kiss on the neck then moved to her mouth as she pressed their lips together then in a quick move bit down and tugged on Root’s lower lip. When Shaw pulled back, Root’s mouth was opened wide now so Shaw popped an olive from the bowl on the table in it and gave her a wink. Shaw then turned to Martine and Jeremy, “What rating are _you two_ rabbits on now?”

“Rating?” Martine picked up her wine glass as if bored. 

Root’s lip felt on fire, she wanted her lip back in Shaw’s mouth. She stared openly at Shaw and had no idea if that was a real kiss or a kiss for show. 

“Sexually speaking? We’re still in porno land.” Shaw reached around put her arm firmly on Root’s shoulder. She really enjoyed getting to put her hands on Root and her mouth, something she had been waiting for all night. It sucked that it was for show for Root’s asshole ex-wife but maybe it was better than nothing. 

Root in shock spat the olive pit out and Shaw seamlessly caught it in her hand. 

“Porno land?” Martine squinted her eyes at Shaw then Root. 

Shaw whispered to Root, as if they are in cahoots, “Shall I explain?”

“Please do!” Root has an actual smile on her face as she stared heart eyes at Shaw.

With impressive aim, Shaw threw the olive pit onto a passing waiter’s tray. “At first, when two people start sleeping together, they act like they’re porn stars right?” 

Martine and Jeremy looked blank faced as they stared at Shaw. 

“Like with me and Root? Anything goes. Maybe some Church of Lesbyterian, some dinner beneath the bridge, a little guided tour of site B, if you know where _that_ is...” Shaw leaned into Root’s mouth and whispered, “…she does.”

Root amused and excited, was hanging on Shaw’s every word. Jeremy and Martine looked baffled. 

Shaw turned to Root, her eyes flicking down to the taller woman’s lips first then back up to her eyes, “Remember that time when you said we should...and I said I’m not going to do that, and I was just thinking, I’m actually quite scared, because I couldn’t see. And then you flipped it, and did that thing, and suddenly I couldn’t stop, oh my god…” Shaw bit her lip, “…I could not stop, Root…” the last part is said in a loud moan.

Jeremy nearly choked on his drink as he continued to hang on Shaw’s every word. 

“Yes, Root, don’t stop Root, do what you do Root, thank you Root, I love your work.” Shaw got louder and louder, it was getting close to a Sally Albright deli performance. Then Shaw stopped immediately, reverting back to normal tone of voice. “And you lot,” she pointed to Martine and Jeremy, “Are like wow, our sex life is _always_ going to be like this. Then, about 6 months in, the ladies ease it down to an 18 - contains some adult material - then a 15…” Shaw pointed to Martine. “Maybe a quick 69, but only if we’ve just had a bath? And suddenly, whoa, we’re a PG13, wearing cat pajamas to bed, doing the goodnight roll over before you can say ‘missionary position’.”

Shaw was finished; she reached over and shoved a handful of chips in her mouth. Jeremy looked rather flustered, Martine totally miffed. 

“That, is a brilliant theory.” Root had literal heart eyes beaming at Shaw. 

Shaw completely pleased with herself. “Thank you. But I think with you baby…” Shaw leaned into Root and wrapped her arm her shoulder, “…we’ll be in porno land for a lot longer than usual.” She smiled at Root and two of them have a moment staring into each other’s eyes. 

Root started getting into this theory game, “I’ve got a theory too.”

“Hit me.” Shaw took another swig of her beer. 

“If you get a girl back to yours, and you tell her that you don’t want to have sex, that you want to take it slow? So you can get to really know her…guaranteed she’ll want to go down on you.” Root looked rather smug took a sip of her drink. 

Shaw looked at Root with a little awe, “The Blowjob Paradox.”

“Use it, don’t abuse it.” Root and Shaw clinked their glasses together. 

Martine looked at Jeremy - he clearly did that to her. 

“I mean, if divorce papers were honest, it wouldn’t say ‘irreconcilable differences’. It would say ‘just not enough oral sex’,” said Shaw with a smug grin. 

Jeremy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Martine had enough. It’s time to shut this down; she had something that was going to hurt. “Ooh, that reminds me Root. Have you signed everything yet?”

“Ooh, yes I have, Martine. And conveniently, I have them with me,” Root swiftly reached into her bag, angrily whacking the divorce papers down on the table. “Although I did it with a pen. You’d probably prefer I signed them with my blood.”

Shaw, wanted to diffuse the situation seeing Root getting very upset. 

“Hey Root, it’s our song. Maybe we should dance,” Shaw stood up and offered her hand to Root. 

As they left the table, they didn’t hear Martine snapped to Jeremy, “Don’t you fucking touch me.” Clearly, stilled pissed about their blowjob paradox. 

Root looked at her - WTF - as she swiftly pulled her up, dragging her onto the dance floor, where the DJ was currently playing ‘Fade Into You’ by Mazzy Star. 

“What are you doing?” Root looked wide-eyed at Shaw. 

“Stopping you from making a twat of yourself using the medium of dance.” Shaw put her arms awkwardly around Root’s neck, who looked at her with furrowed brows. “I’m going to _slow dance_ you into submission. It’s called ‘school disco therapy’. You need to put your arms around my waist for it to work properly.”

Root slowly put her hands on Shaw’s waist, she didn’t want to notice they fit well together despite her nerves and anxiety. They awkwardly danced together, Root glanced back at Martine and Jeremy. 

“I’m such a bitch,” Root said with a scrunched up face, clearly disappointed in herself. 

“You’re not a bitch.” Shaw looked over to Martine and Jeremy, such two huge assholes. “You know it’s always better to be the one who’s dumped though, right? You never have to regret anything then. They made the decision. And they have to live with that for the rest of their lives.”

“It’s not as simple as that.” Root looked down at the floor and then slowly up into Shaw’s serious eyes. 

“It will be. Just takes time.” Shaw felt Root’s hand now on her ass, she surprised herself by getting angry and horny at the same time. “Your hands are slipping down to my ass.”

“Sorry. Old habit.” Root shook her head, not really an old habit; this was actually a new habit. She pulled her hands back up to Shaw’s waist. Root thought to herself, her hands felt so at home on Shaw’s body, she wondered if Shaw felt the same way. “Everybody knew they were at it. But nobody told me.”

“Okay, that’s tough,” Shaw tried for a soft tone in her voice, that really did suck. Cheaters are such assholes. 

“You know, I kept it traditional about not sleeping around,” Root was unaware her hands drifted down to Shaw’s ass again. Her hands really liked Shaw’s ass. 

“Hands. Ass.” Shaw smirked, she really liked Root’s hands on her ass, but this woman was also a mess and clearly in an emotional breakdown of sorts. 

Root moved her hands back to Shaw’s waist. 

“I bet you proposed on the top of a Tuscan hill,” Shaw rolled her eyes at Root. 

“Eiffel Tower, actually,” Root felt her stomach burning. 

“And then you spent a year planning your ‘big day’?” Shaw asked already knowing the answer as Root nodded her head. “120 guests?”

“About 230?” Root’s brows furrowed as she concentrated on remembering. 

“And what, about twenty grand, all in?” Shaw stared at Root who motioned to her finger. “Oh, and let’s not forget the ring.”

Root’s whole face scrunched up. “Four grand. But we had to get it re-sized. She got very thin.”

“You spent twenty four thousand dollars on a party and some jewelry,” Shaw shook her head in disgust to Root. 

“It’s a grand gesture. What’s the point of life if you’re not up for stuff like that,” Root shot back angrily to Shaw. 

“A grand gesture that amounted to nothing.” Shaw hadn’t noticed that Root’s hands were on her ass again, but she was mad now and she wanted them off. “Hands. Ass.” She hissed to Root. 

In the background, the bartender had relieved the DJ from his post, and begun to spin ‘The Reflex’ by Duran Duran. Shaw and Root both noted the song playing, and clearly loved the song, but they realized they are now fighting. 

“You’re such a fucking cynic!” Root yelled over the music. 

“Er, realist?! And you’re such a fucking romantic!” Shaw shouted with disdain. 

“Er, more like optimist!”

In total unison as the song played on, Root and Shaw did a double hand flash movement at the same time while intensely staring into each other’s eyes. The song blared on “flex, flex, flex, flex, flex.”

Shaw did another double hand flash movement at Root ‘flex, flex, flex, flex, flex’, and the taller woman didn’t miss a beat as the double hand flash movement was returned. The song continued, as did their argument, which was fast-paced and frenetic as the 80s song. 

“You put _so_ much emphasis on one day and forgot about whoops…the rest of your life,” Shaw danced with rhythm as she made her point to Root. 

“What’s wrong with having a big day?! That doesn’t mean it’s all going to go tits up! Look at your parents! I bet they had a party, and some guests and a Wishing Tree,” Root matched Shaw in dancing and counter argument. 

“Six guests, registry office, drinks in the pub afterwards! They were more concerned with the promises they were making than how many vegetarians there were,” Shaw kicked her leg up along with her point. 

Root kept dancing and not missing one beat to compete with Shaw, while everyone danced along not noticing their dance fighting. 

“Do you not think that’s what I wanted to! When you get married, you make a promise you have no idea if you can keep, but I intended to at least try! And I’ll never, ever regret that. Which is more than you can say, sitting up there on your single perch, with all your judgments…” Root stopped breathing hard as she had just did several harder dance moves trying to out maneuver Shaw. 

They both couldn’t help singing along and doing the same dance mimes at each other to the next bit of the song. 

Shaw sang directly to Root, “So why don’t you use it, try not to bruise it, buy time don’t lose it.”

Root sang directly the same exact line back at Shaw in unison. “So why don’t you use it, try not to bruise it, buy time don’t lose it.”

Small instrumental drum song section, so Root and Shaw kept dancing around each other and then repeated the same lyrics. 

“They’re not judgments! They’re theories, it’s different…” Shaw tried to continue but the chorus of the song came up. 

The chorus of ‘The Reflex’, that both Root and Shaw now really started to dance to, unable to contain their love for the song, but determined to carry on their debate. It’s basically a dance-fight-off. 

Both sang and shouted the lyrics while dancing aggressively towards each other – ‘The reflex is a lonely child, who’s waiting by the park. The reflex is a door to finding treasure in the dark. And watching over lucky clover isn’t that bizarre. Every little thing the reflex does leaves you answered with a question mark.’ 

They both panted and paused for a moment, standing very close together on the crowded dance floor. 

“You know what your problem is? You stand around on the sidelines, ‘theorizing’ on what does and doesn’t work, never experiencing it for yourself, never taking any chances,” Root completely stopped dancing to stare into Shaw’s eyes, her own eyes getting sad. 

“I think my actions today could be considered quite ‘chancey’,” Shaw snorted while glaring back at Root. 

Root did another bold dance move towards Shaw. “You need to woman up Shaw! Yes, I married that woman over there, and yes she tore my heart out, but I’m still standing, still offering myself up to the world! Who are you to say that the girl I met under the clock tonight the girl I was _supposed_ to meet under the clock tonight wouldn’t have ended up being the love of my life?”

Root did one final dramatic dance move; Shaw, totally chastened. 

Root got more and more visibly upset. 

“So why don’t you just let me get on with my sad singleton crisis, and you keep your cynical theories and wisecracks to yourself!” 

An upset Root stormed off into the women’s toilets, leaving a shocked Shaw, alone on the dance floor with ‘The Reflex.’ Shaw looked around at everyone having a great time, forgetting their worries, dancing away, and suddenly her stomach really hurt, like in a deep pit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shoot Week Day 6!

Shaw looked over to the women’s toilets where Root had disappeared off. She shuffled over and slowly walked into the bathroom. Women were fussing over themselves in the mirrors. The women completely ignored Shaw and continued on with their grooming, while Shaw walked over to the bathroom stalls. 

“Root? Are you in here?” asked Shaw cautiously as she entered further into the bathroom, looking under the stalls to find Root’s boots behind the closed doors. 

“No,” Root said in a soft, sad voice. 

Shaw squatted down, still looking under the stalls; trying to find Root’s shoes. 

“Oh come on...” Shaw pleaded a little. She saw Root’s boots then. She moved towards her stall. 

“Just go home. I’m fine.” There were Root sniffles. 

“You’re fine?” Shaw asked with a very confused expression on her face. 

“Absolutely fucking fine,” Root croaked out in between some labored breathing definitely brought on by tears. 

Shaw pushed open the stall door but and it’s not Root. It’s a random woman on a toilet, pants around her ankles and typing on her phone, which was dropped as the door was swung open. 

“Whoa! Sorry!” Shaw slammed the door shut and made a wincing face while squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Pervert!” The random woman yelled at Shaw. 

Shaw dipped down again took under the stalls, she saw a pair of exactly the same boots. She tentatively pushed this stall door open to find - Root, who had clearly been crying. She cringed. 

“I was hoping for the pants around the ankles look,” Shaw tried to lighten the mood. 

Root attempted a weak smile. Shaw slid into the stall with Root and closed the door. She crouched down on the floor, almost in between Root’s long legs. It was a very intimate setting, gross yet intimate; as relationships usually got over time. 

“This is cramped,” Shaw gruffed out. 

“I prefer cozy,” Root said with slightly puffy red eyes. 

Root pulled some toilet paper off the roll and blew her nose loudly like a proper old man. As she sat on the toilet, she had nowhere to put the dirty tissue. Shaw put her hand out, and Root dropped it into her palm. She thought, what’s some phlegm when you’ve already had someone’s lip in your mouth and you want their tongue in your mouth, plus other orifices in your body. 

“Sorry. I’ve had a bad run of relationships over the last few years. Okay, so not really any relationships over the last few years. And I guess maybe it’s made me...not the most positive person.” Shaw stared into Root’s eyes. “I over-analyze, come up with elaborate theories, make monumentally bad decisions – and I’m not like everybody else. I don’t really do feelings.” She looked down at the floor. “So most of the time relationships seem like a lot of work with little payoff. ” Shaw kind of vomited this all out at once. 

Root stared at the floor too. “I’ve just got to move on. She’s out there, happy with someone else, and I’m still holding on,” she had tears welling up in her eyes about to spill over once again. 

Shaw watched Root closely. “Okay, I wouldn’t say ‘happy’. And secondly, you’re not holding on _to her_ , you’re just holding on to a feeling that will eventually pass.” Shaw looked at Root’s sad face. “And maybe I was wrong, maybe dating 26-year-olds is exactly what you need right now.”

“You’ve changed your tune.” Root said with puffy eyes. 

Shaw shrugged, “Unlike the older ladies…” she made a motion up and down her body, “…they do have less baggage.”

Shaw gently nudged Root’s knees apart; she threw Root’s dirty tissue between her two palms into the toile bowl. Root watched her intensely. 

“I mean, I am way over my baggage allowance. I’ve been fucking single for ages.” Shaw looked off in the distance. “Prior to that, spent some time with a guy, who ended it out of the blue, said he wanted to go to China and find himself, but somehow ‘found himself’ shacked up in Queens with a new girlfriend six months later. I’m over it though.”

“You really sound it,” Root said in a very cheeky tone. 

“Apart from one thing. One thing I will never get over. He deauthorized me from his HBOGo. And Netflix.” Shaw made a disgusted face. 

“That is unforgivable.” Root had a slightly lethal expression on her face. Shaw liked it. “I can deauthorize his whole life for you.” 

Shaw looked at Root, who was smiling at her in a very wicked way. 

“What do you really do for a living?” Root asked Shaw thoughtfully. 

Shaw sighed, here is the part that did scare a lot of people away. “I’m a cop, I see the lowest point of humanity on a daily basis.” 

“Am I going to get the cop analogies or theories now?” Root smiled with her still puffy eyes. 

“Maybe…I’m not exactly the poster child for the dating industry or advice.” 

“Well, I’m 40, divorced and crying in a public toilet.”

Shaw put her hand on Root’s thigh. “You’re just an emotional jigsaw at the moment. You’ll piece yourself back together again.” Shaw squeezed Root’s leg. “Just start with the corners. Look for the blue bits.”

Root smiled, she reached out and squeezed Shaw’s hand back. Shaw put her other hand on Root’s thigh and rubbed slow circles. 

“And where do I find these blue bits?” Root asked, although she could focus on was Shaw’s warm hand on her thigh. 

They locked eyes. Root stared into Shaw’s eyes, then went lower and hooked onto her lips. Shaw stared back, laser focused on Root’s lips despite the puffy eyes, slightly running nose, the woman still looked beyond gorgeous; even more so with a raw, wild look about her now. Just as they were about to go in for a kiss a voice boomed over the bathroom stall walls. 

“Took me three years to get over my ex.”

They looked up to see a random woman, looking down at them from the next stall. 

“Jungian Therapy. Two hours, every day, for six weeks,” the random woman offered to Root and Shaw. 

Suddenly, another woman popped up next to her over the stall walls. “I burnt his clothes. Twice. That helped.”

Root and Shaw’s ‘moment’ was over. 

Yet, Root isn’t letting go of anything at the moment. 

“Sex helps too. Lots of hot…sweaty sex,” Root said trying to gain Shaw’s focus back on her lips. 

Before Shaw knew what was happening, Root grabbed her shoulders, pulled her completely in between her legs and smashed their lips together. One of the women looking down grinned and the other one had a disgusted look on her face as she dropped down. 

Shaw immediately deepened the kiss, Root whimpered and then a load moan escaped her lips as she kissed her fiercely back. 

“I could see how that could help,” said the woman still looming over them watching. 

Root and Shaw pulled slowly away from each other breathing heavy, darkened eyes; they looked up at the random woman. Both raised their eyebrows to the women. Shaw stood up and pulled Root up along with her, bringing their bodies flush against each other. She looked up one last time and nodded at the nosy woman before exiting the stall. She wanted to desperately to keep kissing Root but without an audience and not in a smelly toilet. 

When they walked back out to the restaurant, Martine and Jeremy were at the bar, waiting to be served. They were mid-argument. 

“I just think it’s interesting,” Jeremy said as he rolled his eyes again. 

Martine replied back coldly, “‘Interesting’?” 

Jeremy sounded a bit exasperate, “I’m not saying her porn star theory is correct.”

“But you did blow job paradox me,” Martine gave Jeremy a cold, deadly stare. 

As a helpless Jeremy noticed Shaw and Root as they approached the table. He was bizarrely relieved to see them, “Where did you two get to, eh?”

Martine snarked to Root and Shaw. “Probably 69-ing in the toilets no doubt. Very tacky.” She turned her head in disgust. 

Root and Shaw shared a bemused look. 

“But it feels so good,” Shaw stared at Root and ran her tongue over her lips. 

Root’s cheeks felt as if hot presses were applied and wet heat pooled in between her legs. Now all she could think about was 69-ing Shaw in the bathroom, but preferably some place more private were she could make Shaw scream in ecstasy. And some place nosy bathroom women wouldn’t interrupt again. 

Jeremy stared open mouthed at the two attractive women for a moment, clearly having his own moment. “Who’s up for a shot? Come on, let’s all do some shots!” Jeremy motioned for the bartender to come over. 

“Do you know what, I think I’ve had enough to drink.” Shaw stared hard at Root, she then ran her hand up and down Root’s arm, then dropping her hand lower to curve along her backside.   
“Yeah, me too actually...” Root replied back with only eyes for Shaw. 

Jeremy was grateful for the distraction from angry Martine, “Nonsense! This is a seminal night! We need to mark it somehow.” He motioned to the bartender again. 

As Jeremy leaned in to give his order to the bartender, Martine stared at Root and squinted her eyes, “You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I was actually crying,” Root honestly replied back to her ex-wife. 

Shaw watched a smirk appear on Martine’s face so she butted, “With laughter! Have you ever tried to do it in a stall that small? Ooh, hang on, did I leave my knickers in there?” She stuck her hand in the back of her jeans to fake check. Then Shaw deftly turned Root away from Jeremy and Martine, who continued their argument. Behind then all, the bartender started to lay out the equipment to do flaming sambuca shots. Liquor, shot glasses and one of those long clipper lighters. He started to fill up the shot glasses. 

“She does not need to know the real reason for your tears,” Shaw leaned in and whispered in Root’s ear, she also inhaled deeply, the taller woman smelled damn good. 

“Did you want to leave your knickers in there?” Root whispered back in a husky, sexy tone to Shaw. 

“Focus, Root. Repeat after me.” Shaw felt goose bumps pop up over her body; she pulled her face back to stare into Root’s eyes. “After this shot, you will be stronger, wiser, and finally moving on.”

“After this shot I will be stronger, wiser and finally moving on.” Root smiled back to Shaw, feeling a swarm of butterflies in her stomach suddenly being so close and staring in her fake date’s eyes. 

Shaw grinned, she admitted she did want to leave her knickers back there in the bathroom. Behind them, the bartender started to light the shot glasses. But before he could get to the last two, Shaw picked them up, not realizing they’re meant to be lit. 

“Fuck the past!” Shaw raised her glass to Root.

“Fuck the past!” Root grinned back to Shaw. 

They both toasted their shots swiftly and determinedly to each other. Before she took a sip, Shaw sniffed hers, nearly puked, and decided to throw it over her shoulder. It landed straight in Jeremy’s eyes, he clutched his face, over dramatically. 

“Aaaargh! It burns! It burns!” Jeremy yelled with his hands on his face. 

Shaw and Root turned around to see Jeremy, flailing around, unable to open his eyes. He leaned forward on the bar, his sleeve dipping into one of the flaming shots and WHOOSH! His sleeve caught on fire. 

Martine started to panic, she turned to Shaw, “Do something!”

Shaw didn’t realize Martine was talking to her. 

“You’re a firewoman, put the fucking fire out!” Martine demanded of Shaw. 

“Right! That’s my job!” Shaw remembered her fake occupation. 

Shaw vaguely remembered what to do from some demonstrations at work. The bartender handed Shaw the fire extinguisher. A determined Shaw took hold off it, pulled down on the nozzle…then decided to have some fun with it. The device was a little tougher to control than she thought, so she went with it sprayed white foam all over Martine. Root cracked up at seeing her ex-wife completely covered and screaming at Shaw to stop. 

“Sorry! Standard safety testing protocol!” Shaw yelled to Martine who had a murderous ragey look on her face directed at her. 

Shaw reset then aimed for Jeremy who was still on fire. The foam soaked his arm and he was safe with the fire extinguished. 

“Woooo-hooo! Firewoman skills to pay the fire woman bills,” Shaw flexed her arm muscles while hoisting the fire extinguisher over her head, still spraying out white foam. She then threw the fire extinguisher off across the bar where no one was standing. She turned to find Root laughing uncontrollably. 

The two women smiled and nodded at each, they grabbed their stuff and fled the scene leaving a lot of people drenched, smoky and a total mess. 

**##--##**

Shaw and Root, walked along the streets towards a subway entrance, almost skipping across in a delight fashion high on their bar antics. 

“And I think that’s closure,” Root smiled over at Shaw walking along next to her. 

“That’s the dictionary definition, right there,” Shaw grinned thinking about to that mean asshole Martine covered in white foam screaming, hoping her fucking diary is ruined some how.   
“Denial, depression, acceptance…” Root ticked off stages on her fingers. 

“And fire,” Shaw gave a certain finger to Root. 

They high fived each other, sharing a victorious and lovely moment as they entered the subway station and waited for the next train. When the emerged after a quick ride, they were back at Grand Central station, they walked along the terminals back to the main entrance. 

“What’s next then?” Root asked with hopeful eyes to Shaw. 

“What’s the time?” Shaw asked back to Root. 

“10 o’clock.” Root checked her watch. 

“Shit! I should really check in at the party.” Shaw got her phone out, as does Root. Their phones start coming back to life. 

Shaw’s phone had more missed calls from Joss and a message. She looked confidently up at Root, whose phone is coming back to life with much vigor, a cacophony of messages, noises and alerts coming from the device. 

“So. I think I’d better finally head to my friend’s retirement party, but, and here’s a crazy idea, I was thinking maybe you would like to…” Shaw said in a shy way, or at least a subtle way for Shaw. 

“Hold up a minute...” Root distracted by her phone. She carried on looking at her phone, slowing down her walk. Shaw followed suit, sneaking glances at Root. 

Shaw took a deep breath and decided to summon some of her strength, “…because, you know, it would be nice to take someone along for a change…”

Root was still totally distracted, as she looked up from her phone, “Huh? Sorry. She’s called. And texted.”

“Who has?” Shaw asked, not wanting to know the answer. 

“Hanna,” Root looked completely surprised, yet also kind of excited. 

Shaw’s brows furrowed in confusion with a tinge of anger. “She has?”

“Said she’d spoken to Zoe, there had obviously been some confusion, and she still wants to meet up with me,” Root looked back down at her phone again. 

“But you stood her up? Loooser.” Shaw snapped back, thinking back to the annoying young woman on the train. 

“Technically _I_ didn’t stand her up.” Root smirked to Shaw. “You did. Plus, she’s young, remember? So not a total cynic like you...us...yet."

“Of course. Your 26-year-old obsession.” Root slowed down a bit at Shaw’s slam to her. 

“Well _you_ said I should keep it simple,” Root glared at Shaw. 

“When?” Shaw scrunched up her face. She didn’t want Root to run off with annoying train woman Hanna. 

“In the toilets, about half an hour ago!” Root stopped walking and grabbed Shaw’s arm. “So what’s your theory on this one?”

“My theory?” Shaw looked thrown by this question and the arm touching. 

“What should I do? Girl meets girl...” Root paused, tentatively, “…or girl doesn’t meet girl?” She kind of wanted Shaw to say don’t leave, don’t meet the real Hanna. 

Shaw looked at Root. She thought to herself, ugh she is actually asking her this. She took a deep breath. 

“Come on, now you tell me what to do, and then we argue about it, and then..." Root waited for Shaw to respond. 

“Unbelievable.” Shaw started walking again and speeding up. 

Root started a jog to catch up with Shaw. “Wait!”

“What for?” Shaw stopped and turned around to glare at Root. 

“All night, you’ve had opinions and theories on everything, and now suddenly you’ve got nothing to say?”

“What do you want, Root? My permission?”

“No, I…” Root searched Shaw’s eyes, looking for any clue the closed off woman didn’t want her to go. 

“Fine, go and meet Hanna. Girl meets girl, that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Shaw tried not to huff like a jealous child. 

“Well, yeah but…” Root didn’t know what she wanted anymore. 

“There you go then. What are you waiting for?”

They stood in silence for a moment. As Shaw looked up and realized they were underneath the clock again, the final nail in her confidence coffin. 

Shaw started to rummage through her bag, back to business, “I presume you’re meeting her here?” 

Root looked up confused then noticed the clock once again. “Um…” she looked embarrassed now, “…yes.”

Shaw found what she was looking for in her bag, she pulled out the copy of _6 Billion People and You_ , “You can give her this back then.”

“She bought another one,” Root looked down at her feet. 

“I’ll never read it,” Shaw confessed. 

“I haven’t really read it,” Root confessed. 

“Maybe we should have.” 

They both looked at each other. 

“So... that’s everything then?”

“Yup,” Shaw felt weird, “Sorry for derailing your date.”

“I’m glad you did.” Root responded softly, “Otherwise I’d have nothing to talk about on this next one.”

“It is a great anecdote. I’m sure I’ll use it in the future myself,” Shaw felt her cheeks go warm again. 

They both continued to stare and not stare at each other. Not knowing how to leave each other. 

“Well. Look after yourself,” Root smiled softly as she stared at Shaw. 

“That’s my dog’s job,” Shaw gave a wink. 

“Bye Sameen Shaw,” Root stared at Shaw, her eyes lingered on her mouth. 

Shaw put her hand out to shake Root’s, “Bye Root…whatever the fuck your last name is, what are you like Cher?”

Root leaned in, pressed her warm lips and kissed Shaw’s cheek. They had come full circle this night; it was agony most exquisite between the two women with neither of them acknowledging it. Shaw started to walk away from Root. 

“I’ll Facebook you,” Root shouted to Shaw as a joke. 

“I’m not on Facebook!” Shaw shouted back as she continued to walk away. 

“Idiot!” Root shouted back to Shaw. 

“Idiot!” Shaw yelled back to Root. 

Root watched Shaw go, she felt sad and she didn’t know why. She said to herself, “Idiot.” 

Shaw walked down to her terminal to catch her train, she whispered to herself, “Idiot.” She turned, to look at Root, but the crowd suddenly engulfed her and poof, she was gone. Like she was never, ever there in the first place. 

As Shaw got on her train, she handed her copy of _6 Billion People and You_ to a passing girl, who took it, confused. Shaw collapsed into a seat, started to look around in her bag for her note-pad. She pulled it out, but of course, it’s actually Root’s note-pad. They forgot to swap. Dammit. She opened it up to find a doodle Root had done - it’s of the clock at Grand Central Station, and a girl and girl meeting underneath it. The speech bubbles said ‘swoon’ and ‘hubba hubba’. A totally gutted Shaw stared out of the window as her train began to leave the station.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shoot Week Day 7!

As Shaw was finally on her way to Fusco’s retirement party, Root sat outside at a hipster cafe with of course, the Girl on Train, Hanna. She tried to play it cool, but she was slightly exhausted from an eventful evening and almost already nursing a hangover. 

“What kind of nutjob pretends to be someone else’s blind date?!” Hanna said with a shocked look on her face. 

Root cringed and gave a fake smile to the younger woman, “Well…it was kind of a mistaken identity actually…” she trailed off and took a sip of her drink. 

“Although, it does prove what a publishing sensation _6 Billion_ has become. Anyway! Let’s just pretend it never happened and start again.” Hanna said smugly and leaned onto the table, getting closer to Root. 

She raised her glass of wine to Root’s bottle of beer. They clinked. Hanna took a small sip of wine. Root took a rather long gulp of her beer and kept glugging with a slightly wild look in her eye. Hanna patiently waited for her to finish. 

“Sorry. Very thirsty.” Root felt Hanna’s eyes on her in a judgmental way. “Done a lot of... walking today.”

A bit of awkward silence as both women fidget with their drinks. 

“So…I hear you work downtown, Hanna?” Root asked kind of in a tired way, it was the same question she had asked Shaw. 

“Correct! And I love it,” Hanna smiled at Root; she looked to still be in her pressed work clothes from downtown. 

“Lunch is for wimps,” Root remembered Shaw’s quick reference and smiled. 

Hanna doesn’t get the film reference. She tilted her head and stared back at Root. 

“It’s from Wall Street.” Hanna looked to Root with a confused furrowed brow. “‘If you need a friend, get a dog.’” Root tried one more line, the same one she had quoted back to Shaw. 

“Ooh, is that the one with Leonardo DiCaprio?” Hanna asked excitedly. 

“No. That’s Wolf of Wall Street,” Root replied back sadly, definitely an age gap. 

An awkward pause, as Hanna continued to smile brightly at Root, who in return looked down at the packet of chips, took a handful and started to munch away. 

“Zoe says you’re a triathlete?” Root asked in a bored tone. 

**##--##**

Fusco and Frankie’s house was a bit of a mess now, everyone perhaps a little worse for wear, all seated around the various coffee tables, eating the food from the now uncovered long table with big salads, a huge lasagna, tabbouleh, cheese, deli meats, too many dips to count, garlic bread and many other munchies. Reese stood up, tapped his wine glass. 

Reese wobbled a little as he went to the front of the living room, clearly a little tipsy. “Attention…just wanted to make a toast,” Reese lifted up his glass to his close friend, as did everyone in the room. “I’m not big on speeches so here goes…” he waited and everyone hung on his words, “…to Fusco.”

Everyone laughed including Fusco. 

“That was longer than I thought,” Fusco chuckled as he stood up from the couch and joined his friend at the front of the room. “Thank you big guy. Well, here we are then. I was kinda hoping my friend Shaw would be here to do the speech, but she’s been a little...” Fusco turned to look at Joss who shrugged her shoulders, “...stalled?”

Joss, stood in the corner of the room with a plate of food and nodded confidently. “And hopefully laid,” she muttered softly to herself. 

“So it falls to myself to find some suitable words... but I mean, seriously, what’s left for to say after 30 years of working basically a shit show of humanity?” Fusco shrugged 

Frankie, seated on a nearby table heckled her husband, “You can finally fucking quit now! And stop bitching every night!”

Everyone laughed. A tired and awkward Shaw snuck into the house and watched her friends. 

“Still as foul mouthed as the day I met her. And more beautiful than ever,” Fusco had heart eyes beaming at his wife. 

A few ‘awws’ floated around the room as Fusco’s sweet endearment of his wife. 

“But ya know what…I would have worked another 30 years,” he smiled as he raised his glass. “It was an honor serving and protecting you New York.” He saluted upwards. 

“You better fucking not,” Frankie stood up and wrapped her arms around Fusco’s shoulders. 

Fusco smiled and with this free hand, held onto Frankie’s arm. 

“Frankie, you’re my chief now and I can’t wait to start working full time for you,” Fusco leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. As he turned back to face the room, his eye caught Shaw by the front door. 

“Shaw! You finally fucking made it,” Fusco smirked at his friend. 

Frankie spun around to see Shaw as did everyone else in the room, everyone happy that she made it to the party. 

Shaw took a deep breath, “I remembered the chocolate mousse.” She spoke quietly and very solemnly as if the chocolate mousse was actually something terrible and not a delicious dessert. She held up several bags of chocolate mousse and promptly stormed out of the room as she kicked the door to the kitchen door open violently. “FUCK!”

**##--##**

Root and Hanna were finishing up their first drink at the hipster bar that the older woman felt entirely uncomfortable looking at the younger couples.

“Yup, I’ve got big home improvement plans for this year. Going to do up my condo, paint the hallway…” Root trailed off, she was trying her hardest to piece together sentences and engage in an interesting conversation but she felt torn. 

“Oh yes, Hannah said you’re a bit of an artiste?” Hanna asked excitedly with raised eyebrows. 

“Oh I dabble...” Root tried to be cool, but she didn’t give a shit anymore. “Who am I kidding. I’m a hacker.” She grabbed some artisanal chips from the table and started munching away.

Hanna seemed oblivious to Root’s spiraling mood down into despair, she charged ahead regardless, chuffed to find something in common. “I got an A in graphic design!” Hanna said with big eyes at Root. 

“I can’t remember my grades from school,” Root stared off in the distance as if trying to search the database of her brain for school records. 

Hanna laughed, thinking Root made a joke. 

“I can really. I’m not that old,” Hanna laughed again at her own joke. 

Root still thinking hard on her old school records retrievals in her brain suddenly spat out. “Wait….two B’s and a C.” She shrugged her shoulders then almost took another sip, “No, one B, two C’s.” Her brows furrowed, she looked very angry to remember this old information and basically useless record. “I passed them all anyway.” 

Hanna sat a bit bewildered and she watched this internal struggle Root was having, “Well done.” She was determined to be positive for this older, slightly sad woman. “Anyway, I’m so glad you’re a fan of _6 Billion People and You_ as well. And sorry I was late to meet you, but actually the reason I had to buy another copy was because I left my copy for this woman on the train. She so needed to read it.”

As Hanna continued to talk, Root suddenly perked up at the mention of Shaw. 

“She was a very unhappy soul, one of those lost hope, clock ticking kind of women,” Hanna continued to ramble on. 

As Root sat there listening about Shaw, a grin slowly spread across her face. Hanna suddenly whipped out a girly, multi-colored notepad from her bag. 

“Anyway, let’s do the lists!” Hanna exclaimed hugging her notebook with enthusiasm. 

Root looked like a lost puppy, “The lists? Oh right, yeah…” she thought back to Shaw again. She reached into her bag, and suddenly smiled. Yes, there it is in her bag, Shaw’s notepad. As Hanna started to efficiently flick her notepad over. 

“I can’t wait to see what your favorite food is,” Hanna stared at Root then down at Shaw’s notepad. 

Root look and sounded a bit strained, “Me neither.”

Root took a massive gulp of beer, flipped over Shaw’s notepad and found ‘FUSCO’S RETIREMENT SPEECH THE LAZY OLD ASS.’ She looked up at Hanna, who offered her notepad over to her.

“Ready?” Hanna smiled at Root. 

The next few minutes happened in a blur as Root told Hanna all about her date or fake date with Shaw. The younger woman grew more excited as the story progressed and before Root could fully comprehend what she was doing, she dashed after Hanna. 

“Root, you have to go after her right now!” Hanna typed on her phone for a car service as she ran down to the busy street corner with a flustered Root following behind her. 

“I’m so sorry about this…” when they stopped running at the corner, Root shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, she couldn’t believe she had word vomited her whole night with Shaw to Hanna. 

“What are you talking about? It’s amazing! If I hadn’t left her the book, oh my god... it’s like the most epic love story ever!” Hanna scanned the streets for the car she ordered on her phone app. She grinned so hard and said in a triumphant way, “And it means I was right, and she was wrong!”

A car screeched to a halt in front of Root and Hanna. Hanna swung open the door and Root got in. The driver leaned out his window, “Ladies, where to?” 

Root had a scared look on her face, “Shit. I have no idea.”

“Just call her,” Hanna said in her most excited tone of the night. 

“I don’t have her number.” Root stared at Hanna’s confused look, “I have _your_ number.”

As the driver waited patiently, and Root helplessly realized this could be a hopeless mission. 

“Well, what’s her name?”

“Shaw. Sameen Shaw.” Root thought to herself, okay she could do some hacking, surely she could find Shaw. 

“We’ll just look her up on Facebook,” Hanna shouted with enthusiasm. 

“She’s not on Facebook,” Root grinned thinking of Shaw’s apparent hatred of social media. 

Hanna looked perplexed, why would someone not be on Facebook. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she got her phone out. “Everyone is connected, you’ll have some mutual friends or something.”

As Root realized something, she leaned out of the window, grabbed Hanna’s face and kissed her firmly on the cheek. 

“You genius millennial!” Root shouted to Hanna as the car started to pull away, “Thanks Hanna!” Keep up the triathleting!” 

Hanna waved and smiled back to Root as the car sped away down the street, she clutched her copy of _‘6 Billion People and You’_ close to her chest. 

**##--##**

The bowling alley was quiet and almost empty. Control was bowling on her own, only one other group playing, clearly drunk off their asses. She was wearing Root’s scarf around her neck and she lovingly kissed the bowling ball that she was holding, and was just about to take a shot when Root stormed in out of breath. 

“Control!” Root shouted excitedly. 

Control turned to Root hopeful, looking behind her. “Where’s Shaw?”

Root realized she was going to have to be careful with this one, the woman seemed a tad unsettled like she could cut off a body part without blinking. 

“Control…ah, cool Control…that is really cool name.” Root smiled at the fierce, intimidating woman. She held down some anger, she wanted her scarf back. “I was hoping you could help me find Shaw.”

Root tried to take her scarf from Control nicely, in almost flirty way but Control was having none of it. Root backed away from the scarf, okay so she never wanted that scarf back. “Any chance you know where her friends live? She’s at their house. It’s her friend’s retirement party tonight.” Root raised eyebrows in a hopeful way with a big smile.

Control, took all this in, she moved the bowling ball between her hands. 

“I know the exact Google Map coordinates.” Control flung her bowling ball across three lanes, surprisingly it struck out all the pins in the lane it landed in with a loud SMASH. 

Control’s car was burning some rubber through suburbia, the bright lights of Manhattan behind it. Root held onto the door handle for dear life as Control blatantly ran a red light then she dramatically swerved to dangerously over-take someone. 

Root had been on some bumpy rides before but this one was actually scaring her. “I really don’t mind getting the train, Control.” She winced as Control sped up even faster. “If you could just give me the address. And how do you know the address of Shaw’s friend’s house?”

Control ignored Root. “So what’s your plan?”

“My plan?” Root squinted her eyes as Control jerked the car right to avoid hitting a parked car. 

“To win her heart?” Control took her eyes off the road to intensely stare at Root. 

“This isn’t a power ballad,” Root winced again after nearing missing another car. 

“Well it should be. Grand, romantic gestures Root. That’s what it’s all about.” Control looked back to the road. “Declarations. Heart on the line. Life changing kind of stuff. That’s what I was going for in the toilets earlier. Action. You know, more than words.” 

Root smiled ruefully at Control, then the expression changed to mild fear as the woman took a sharp left hand turn using just her left hand, Root looked aghast, visibly blanching. 

“Taught myself to drive with just my left hand. Pretty useful, I can tell you.” Control motioned to her other hand on her crotch. 

Root was getting a little nauseous from the reckless driving and implied sexual vibes from Control. Then the woman overtook another car, putting her foot down on the accelerator. Another abrupt sharp left hand turn onto a quiet, street lamp lit row of Victorian terrace houses. She brought the car to a halt and looked around. 

Root let out the breath she was holding. “Are we here?” She opened her eyes that had been squeezed shut. 

“Yup. We’re here.” Control tapped the steering wheel. 

“What number?” Root reached for the car door handle. 

Control paused with a serious expression, then with conviction. “6714.” She revved the car engine. “Go, go! Bonne chance, my friend!”

Root got out of the car and Control sped off down the road. Root looked at the houses took a deep breath and headed for number 6714. 

**##--##**

Shaw sat with a deep scowl surrounded by Joss, Reese, Fusco and Frankie as she tried to recount the evening. They were trying to work out what she was saying, but she was practically indecipherable throughout her angry rant retelling with of the evening and meeting Root. 

“Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Why didn’t I just say ‘don’t go and meet her, come to the party with me?’ Because why would she not go and meet her and come to the party with me…” Shaw continued to ramble on and then proceeded to punch the wall with her fist.

Reese put his hand to out block Shaw’s fist, “Go easy Shaw, it’s only a partition wall.” He led Shaw over to sit on the couch, where Joss sat down on one side and Frankie on the other. 

Fusco’s whole face was scrunched up as he bent down to talk to Shaw, trying to decipher his friend’s rambles. “Something about a party?”

Frankie decided to give it a shot and looked at Shaw. “This party?” Shaw nodded to her friend. 

“And you put a chair out for her and everything…” Shaw pointed to an extra chair with a sign that read, ‘Shaw’s date’ across the room next to another chair. 

Joss smiled, it had been Reese’s idea. “We thought the woman on the phone sounded promising.” 

“The strange woman you were on a date with!” Fusco said loudly, finally putting the pieces together. 

Shaw nodded again and still remained very still and blank faced. 

“It didn’t go well?” Reese asked with a sympathetic voice. 

“It did, it did go well,” Shaw stared down at the ground, not facing her friends. 

“Hooray!” both Joss and Fusco say the same time in support of their dear friend. 

Shaw remained stone faced while Reese looked drunk and perplexed. 

“Not hooray?” Joss’s brows furrowed together as she rubbed Shaw’s back in soothing circles. 

“Boo? Boo!” Fusco asked as he brought another chair to sit down next to Shaw and gripped her shoulder. 

“I am deeply confused.” Reese stared to hit the wall, a la Shaw. 

“Come on Shaw Bear, take a deep breath,” Frankie said while lovingly running her hands through Shaw’s messy hair. 

“Tell us what happened my grumpy bear,” Fusco said in loving tone to his friend. 

Shaw took a deep breath, composed herself, opened her mouth to tell the whole story in chronological order when suddenly the door went **RRRRRRRIINNNNNGGGGG!**

At the same time, Root took a deep breath and pushed the doorbell on 6714, while Shaw and everybody jumped at the sound of the buzzer and stared at the front door. 

Reese looked to everyone, “I’ll the get the door.” He walked over slowly to the front door, opened it and Shaw looked shocked. 

“What are you doing here?” Shaw looked hard at the front door and the figure standing there. 

Meanwhile at 6714, the door swung open revealing a loud party. Root stood surprised with her mouth hanging open, not the kind of scene she was expecting for a retirement party. 

Root peered inside the house with very confused expression on her face, “Is Shaw here?”

A gang of young people ran up to the door excitedly, “Are you a stripper-gram?”

One young woman looked Root up and down hungrily, “Old Hot Lady Stripper Gram! Yes!”

“What, no…” Root didn’t get to finish as two young women pulled her into the rave party house. A house that did not appear to be Shaw’s friend’s house at all, and most certainly did not feel like a retirement party. Instead, it was a total youth rave house party, and it was in full swing. 

Back at Fusco and Frankie’s house, Control stood at the front door staring past everyone at Shaw. “I had to come and find you. After what happened tonight…my love.” Control rushed into the house and knelt before a baffled Shaw.

The room of people at Fusco’s retirement party stopped momentarily to watch Control stomp into the party wearing a colorful scarf and kneel in front of Shaw, but then most everyone went back to their own conversations. Except, Joss, Reese, Frankie and Fusco who all watched this interaction closely with mixed emotions. 

“How did you…” Shaw looked completely bewildered at seeing her former classmate again for the second time tonight. 

Control stared intensely at Shaw, “I couldn’t just leave it like that.”

Joss’s eyebrows shot up high and her mouth opened wide, “Oh my god, Shaw is this…” the pieces falling into place yet still feeling a bit off. 

Control stood up and grinned at all of Shaw’s friends, “Hello, I’m Control.” 

“Oh…that’s…cool…” Frankie said cautiously, her eyes shifting back and forth between Shaw and the woman. 

“Did she say control as her name?” Fusco whispered in Frankie’s ear to which she nodded and rolled her eyes. 

“We’ve got a chair for you,” Reese pointed to the ‘Shaw’s Date’ chair. 

The men seemed a bit clueless. “We’re so glad you could make it,” Fusco stood up and hugged Control. 

“No, wait, you don’t understand…” Shaw began to explain but Shaw clocked the look of hope and relief in her friend’s faces, her woman had finally shown up. Even though Joss and Frankie were skeptical, they both still welcomed Control into the house and party. Control grinned from ear to ear at them. As the house door finally slammed shut, it revealed the number 6741. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy End of Shoot Week! (I get post blues anything so I broke up into one more chapter)

Root was now at the very the epicenter of the young rave party, a few youngins had pulled her to the kitchen. Shots were being done at the breakfast bar, joints being lit and one couple getting off with each other up against the fridge. Two of the young women have their arms around Root as they lead her through the carnage of the house party. 

“Everybody, this is Root!” shouted the younger blonde woman to the whole house party. 

“And she’s looking for…” the red headed girl now started shouting, “…who are you looking for again?” 

Root scanned the room, “Shaw?!” She yelled but it was no use, she couldn’t be heard over the music. 

A group of teenagers were doing rainbow body shots. They all looked up at her in unison. 

“This is definitely not a retirement party,” Root sighed. 

“Shaw! Shaw, are you here, Shaw?” The young blonde started shouting again on behalf of Root. 

A random girl, who was just making out against the refrigerator yelled out, “I’m Shaw!”

Then another girl, who looked like she was about to throw up screamed over the crowd, “I’m Shaw!”

And then a few guys started shouting ‘I’m Shaw!’ once they saw what Root looked like. All the yelling turned into a whole chorus of teenagers shouting Spartacus style, ‘I’m Shaw! I’m Shaw!’; which while was kind of flattering was also extremely exasperating to Root. 

Root noticed the almost sick girl definitely was going to throw up, she immediately rushed over and guided the young woman to the sink and held her back as the girl began to hurl into the kitchen sink. 

“None of you are Shaw! Sameen Shaw is 38, not 16,” Root explained as she rubbed circles on the sick girl’s back as she finished throwing up. “That’s it, get it all out. You’ll feel better.” She looked around the room and continued to explain to no one in particular. “Shaw’s got nice hair, and a really beautiful face…lovely grumpy attitude at times.”

The sick girl finished emptying the contents of her stomach and stood up, she took the paper towels that Root offered her. “Take some aspirin and drink a pint of water before bed.” 

The sick girl looked up at Root with her heart eyes, “I love you.”

Suddenly, a short dark haired hair boy with glasses walked up to Root, “Wait, Sameen Shaw? She saved me from getting hit by a car one time, she hangs out at her friend’s house a few blocks over all the time.”

Root charged over to the nerdy teen guy, “Can you take me to her?”

“Yes I can.” The young man replied as he readjusted his glasses. “I have all the exact locations and coordinates of everyone in the neighborhood in this virtual map I constructed, my name is Harold.” 

“Let’s go Harry!” Root shouted as she pushed Harold throw the mass crowd of the party and out of the house. 

Huge cheers, as the whole party followed Root outside to find Shaw. 

Root, Harold and all the teenagers started running down the streets. Harold pointed up the road. Root went full steam ahead, she ran as fast as she could with her messager bag across her shoulder and her coat whipping in the wind, the teenagers immediately following her. Everyone was on a jogging/on a mission/take no prisoners sight to behold. As Root intently focused on the mission ahead – Shaw. 

Back at Fusco’s house, Shaw sat with a very large glass of scotch and Control sat in the chair Fusco got earlier, both watching the party. Joss, Reese, Frankie and Fusco watched the pair with curious eyes, smiling each time Control stared at them. The only thing Shaw could do was to attempt a pathetically sad smile back to her friends, she didn’t want to ruin any more of Fusco’s party that she already had. Everyone around her was happily chatting now and gobbling up their chocolate mousse puddings, Control looked far too pleased with herself as she did the same. She took a spoon and started to try and feed Shaw some dessert; Joss looked on with disgust and worry. Shaw looked comatose to Joss, which was very unlike Shaw. Joss thought her friend would be standing up any minute now and knocking the pudding at our this woman’s hand and beating the crap out of her. 

Back on the street, Root and the teenagers were still running up the middle of the road. They were a force to be reckoned with. Various bemused reactions from people walking past, and a couple of disapproving neighbors looked out of their windows. But Root was still focused, and the teenagers loved every minute of this grand romantic gesture adventure.

Control continued to try to force-feed a very zombie like Shaw some chocolate mousse. Shaw was keeping her mouth shut, but Control was determined. Now Fusco and Frankie were getting concerned and creeped out. 

Root and the teenagers kept running, their journey wasn’t quite as linear as Harold thought. He was more used to virtual maps than actually being on the streets and out in the world pounding on the pavement. He consulted his phone again, then pointed to a different direction. Root glared at Harold as they changed directions, but kept running.

Back to Shaw, Control was still trying to get her chocolate mousse spoon into her mouth. Control discarded the spoon suddenly and Shaw looked at her, fearful of her next move.

Root and all the teenagers all gathered around Harold’s phone in the middle of a crossroads. Root was very frustrated with her teenage charges at this point. Very confused looks from them all. 

“Harry, do you have any idea on how to use a map?” Root asked as calmly as she could to the young, anxious guy. 

“Err…we are very close Miss Root,” Harold looked back down at his phone nervously. 

In the background, the sick girl threw up again in the street. Root thought the sick girl probably shouldn’t have come along and ran so much. Root looked around in desperation. She turned and started sprinting, the teenagers kept following - they weren’t going to desert her! This task appeared to look truly hopeless now but they kept running. 

Shaw and Control continued to sit side by side in the chairs, the chocolate mousse action has really ramped up now, and Control was now using her finger. The guests started to notice the odd looking couple. 

“Is Shaw asleep again with her eyes open? How has she not broken that woman’s hand yet?” Frankie walked over to Joss, they both looked even more weirded out and confused by their friend’s actions and non-actions. 

Root and her large young entourage ran down a narrow alley between houses, teenagers still behind her, trying to keep up. She frantically looked over tops of walls and fences. Then suddenly, she spotted Control’s car in the distance. That sneaky bitch! Root realized the former classmate of Shaw’s had tricked her and went to the party. Root picked up her pace and ran faster. 

Root dashed the final 100 yards towards the car, and more importantly Shaw's destination house, with the teenagers scrambling to keep up with her. 

Control’s finger was getting dangerously close to Shaw’s face and was about to be snapped in half when Fusco began an announcement to the party. He clinked his glass to get everybody’s full attention, most importantly Shaw and her weird companion. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please?” Everyone got quiet as Fusco moved to stand next to Frankie, who was seated on one of the couches. He sat down next to her and topped her wine glass carefully, then turned to look at Shaw. 

Shaw finally snapped out of her zombie state, she realized ‘shit, yes’; she wiped the chocolate mousse off her hands. She attempted to reset. Joss sat up, excited. Shaw rose slowly from her chair. 

“I just wanted to say, um, a few words.” Shaw grabbed her glass. “I actually had prepared something, but then I lost it - long story - actually, fuck it, I’m going to condense it for you, because it’s the reason I was late, thus the reason this speech is going to be so lame. I met a woman today…” she looked around the room and found Joss’s warm, concerned eyes staring back at her. 

Control waved and smiled to all the party guests, “Hello!” 

“Not this woman.” Shaw blurted out while the party guests now looked on confused. 

“Oh, for fucks sake thank you!” Joss smiled at her friend and took a long gulp of her drink while John put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. 

“I was standing underneath the clock at Grand Central station, this afternoon, when a woman called Root mistook me for her blind date. And instead of saying ‘you’ve got the wrong girl’, like a normal person, for some reason I decided it would be a good idea to pretend I was her date.” Shaw closed her eyes and waited for Joss’s reaction. 

Joss took a sharp intake of breath, “Shaw you didn’t!”

“I did Joss,” Shaw opened her eyes and stared into her friend’s loving eyes. “So we went out, and for the first time in ages I put myself out there, I took a chance, I even got stronger thighs,” she motioned down her legs. 

All the party guests were a bit confused, but Joss smiled and laughed. 

“Then Root found out I wasn’t who I said I was…a 26 year old triathlete…so she went off to meet her real blind date, blah blah blah, the end...” Shaw took a big gulp of her scotch.

The mood of the party had took a turn, a bit of sadness swept over the room, except for Control who still thought she had a chance with Shaw. 

Shaw looked around the room at all the sad faces, “Don’t be sad. I’m not sad, I don’t get really sad…I’m kinda proud of myself. Because I did go on date, even if I did steal it. I did open myself up to stuff, and yeah, it didn’t quite work out, but at least I got a hint of what could be out there for me…” she had a faraway look in her eyes. 

Shaw turned to her friends, to somewhat happy, well balanced couples, “A fun, loving, interesting, crazy, contradictory, long and okay life with someone, something these two couples have had ever since they first laid eyes on each other hundreds of years ago.”

Joss, John, Frankie and Fusco scoffed at the old comment but got misty eyed at the nice sentiment from Shaw. 

“Back to Fusco,” Shaw turned her attention on her older friend. “I admire and respect you man, and I guess...love you for all the support you’ve given me,” Shaw walked over and refilled her glass then raised it. Joss was on the verge of tears, so was Reese but it was unclear because he was tipsy or moved by what his friend said. “So please join me in toasting Fusco tonight, one hell of a cop, husband, and friend.”

Everyone toasted Fusco who got choked up himself as he drank some of his soda as Frankie hugged him. 

Control stood up and said too loudly, “To Fusco!”

Fusco walked across the room to Shaw, “Well, I liked that speech, I liked it a lot.”

Shaw smiled at Fusco, “We’re going to miss you on the force. Who’s going to eat all the donuts?”

“I only did that so you could keep your girlish figure,” Fusco replied back to Shaw. 

“Keep going Shaw, you’ll get there in the end,” Frankie punched Shaw in the arm. She knew the shorter intense woman preferred fun violence to heart felt displays of affection. 

Joss joined in, “Stronger thighs. I’m so proud of you.” She didn’t care for Shaw’s preferences, she needed a hug, and Joss wrapped Shaw up in a tight embrace. 

Control stood up and put her arm casually around Shaw, which was repeatedly shrugged off. 

John removed Control’s arm from Shaw’s shoulder, “And where is this ‘Root’ now anyway?”

As Shaw looked around the room to think of answer she was shocked at what she saw at the window. “She’s at the window.”

Everyone immediately turned to look at the window where Root was pressed up against the glass waving for anyone’s attention. 

“Shaw!” Root yelled through the glass, all the teenagers behind her joined in. “Shaw! Shaw! Shaw!” 

Shaw couldn’t believe what she was saw, she shrugged off Control’s arm on her shoulder and went to open the window for Root. 

Root looked up at Shaw with a wide smile, “Hey sweetie,” as she climbed through the window far more gracefully than should be allowed. “Wait there,” she turned to her teenage entourage. 

Once Root got inside the house she turned to Shaw, “I thought you might want your speech?”

Shaw looked on with furrowed brows, “It’s too late now.”

Root said more firmly, “Do you want your speech, Shaw?”

Shaw stared into Root’s eyes, “Yes?”

“Well shut up and let me give it to you then,” Root took a deep breath, she swung off her bad and dropped it on the floor. Her hair was sweaty and a bit matted from the run, but somehow still looked like something in a hair commercial. 

Joss exchanged a look with Shaw that was a mixture of confusion and fear. Shaw mouthed to Joss to shut up, she could tell her friend was about to say something. 

“This is Root,” Shaw pointed to Root and the room finally got it. 

Root tucked some hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and Shaw’s friends and possibly family who I have never met before in my life. I met a girl today. The wrong girl. Except she turned out to be the _right_ girl. And this girl, who took a chance on me, in the most bizarre and romantic way possible, wanted me to take a chance on her too. But I didn’t. I blew it, like the 40- year-old mid life crisis dickhead I am. Which is why I have sought help from ‘old beaux’ there,” Root pointed to Control with a sneer. “Admittedly not the most reliable source, but still…”

Control held up her hands, “All’s fair in love and war.” She looked at Root with a cold hard stare then smiled. 

Root smiled back nervously, “I ended up at a teenage house party instead and I commandeered those crazy, drunken youths and together we went on a journey, through the mean streets of suburban Brooklyn, because nothing was going to stop me from finding this girl again, and telling her what I should have just told her earlier...” she paused for dramatic effect and her emotions were about to spill over into tears. She was really glad she found Shaw again. “Shaw, I am so glad you pretended to be my blind date today. Because if you hadn’t, then I never would have heard all your amazing sex theories, or watch you try to get jalapeno out of your teeth, or witnessed your instinctive firewoman skills. I would never have got to know your muddy beautiful, triathlete face, hear your surprisingly dirty laugh, or watch your awesome, competitive ass when you’re about to get another strike. If you hadn’t pretended to be my date under the clock Sameen Shaw, then my day would have been utterly shit...” the tears were flowing now, “and so would the rest of my life.”

Everyone ‘aws’ around the room but Root silenced them, with a scary stare. 

“You said to me earlier that I was an emotional jigsaw. And that I should look for the blue bits. Well, I think _you_ might be the blue bits. So what do you reckon Shaw? Quid pro quo?” 

Root moved closer to Shaw, to stand right in front of her. 

The whole party and all the teenagers outside were enraptured, willing this to happen and waited for Shaw’s reaction. Shaw, grinned from ear to ear, but suddenly got serious resting bitch face towards Root. 

“But what does it say in _Six Billion People and You_?” Shaw asked with raised eyebrows. 

Shaw held up her glass. Root swiped John’s glass from him.

Root and Shaw repeat at the same time, “Fuck the past.”

Everybody else raised their glasses and yelled, “Fuck the past!”

Shaw got closer to Root, without an inch of space between them now. Shaw handed her glass to Joss, grabbed Root by the lapels of her jacket and kissed her hard. Control’s face suddenly appeared alongside them. Root shoved Control away, far away. Root leaned in and passionately kissed Shaw. And Shaw returned the kiss back just as deep and fierce, even more so. 

Everyone cheered and the party came alive again. 

“Hands. Ass,” Shaw commanded to Root. 

“My hands aren’t on your ass.” Root looked confused to Shaw. 

Shaw tilted her head and licked her lips at Root, “I know.”

Root did as she was told, her hands moved down to grip Shaw’s ass. They grinned at each other. Shaw led Root out of the room Joss and John cracked opened a bottle of champagne. Fusco grabbed Frankie’s hand started dancing in the middle of the room. Slightly crazy teenagers were all dancing on the front lawn. 

Shaw pushed Root into the nearest bathroom and slammed the door. She pulled the taller woman flush up against her, full body touching and lunged for her lips. Root quickly pressed her tongue against Shaw’s lips and was granted access immediately. They both kissed fiercely, dominating each other’s mouths. 

Root pulled back reluctantly to catch her breath and Shaw started devouring her neck, placing open wet mouth kisses and sucking. Shaw began pushing Root's coat off to the floor and unbuttoning her shirt. 

In between the kisses Shaw whispered to Root, “To confirm, this is my favorite bathroom experience of the evening.”

Root leaned back to give Shaw better access to her neck, “Maybe I’ll keep just my socks and undies on.” 

“Always a strong look,” Shaw said before sucking harder on Root’s neck, she definitely wanted to mark the woman as hers. 

Both women start tugging off each other’s clothes with whispers and moans filling the bathroom. On the other side of the door, Control had her ear pressed to the door, straining to hear what is going on in there. 

“Sweet baby Jesus.” Shaw moaned from inside the bathroom as Root’s mouth finally landed and in a certain area. 

Control grinned from ear to ear to have heard this, she wrapped the scarf around her neck and took a long sniff; the scarf she still thinks is Shaw’s. She stood up fully and began to wander through the house, along the hallway and into the main party scene, where happy vignettes of everyone dancing, celebrating and having fun: Joss and John, Fusco and Frankie, plus, all the party teenagers. 

Root nudged Shaw to slow down, she pulled her face to stare in her eyes, “Now, is there anything I need to know before we begin? Any theories on kissing, or first times, do’s and don’ts in the bedroom/bathroom?” She gave a wicked grin as she spoke. 

“Idiot.”

“Idiot.”


End file.
